The Phoenix Syndrome
by apAidan
Summary: It's two years after the Epilogue and there's an emergency at the DMLE. so Director Hermione Granger-Weasley has to go into the office and find out exactly what's going on. Epilogue compliant Harmony. Rating for violence / torture scene in chapter 6 Chapter 13 edited for a continuity error on 4/8/2013
1. A Bolt From the Blue

**The Phoenix Syndrome  
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><p><em><strong>an –** First, the obligatory disclaimers and notifications. The entirety of the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. Anything recognizable from that milieu is hers and I gratefully acknowledge her creation of the wonderful tapestry that she has woven. _

_Next, the obligatory warnings._

_This is a **harmony** story. If your ticket isn't punched for the SS Harmony, please find your proper boarding station. Also, this story is much less than kind to the two youngest Weasleys. Much less. Giving away anything else would give away too much of the story. Also, and this is something that's a total departure for me, **this story is epilogue compliant**. This translates to the implied married couples in the epilogue being married at the start of this story. Again, not to give away anything from the story, I can guarantee that no non-harmonious PDAs will occur._

_Also, a couple of conventions for my stories. Unless explicitly stated, Hermione in my stories is always Hermione Jane rather than Hermione Jean. There are many reasons for it, so there's no reason for anyone to leave a review 'correcting' her middle name, unless you just really feel you have to. There are references to a couple of OCs that I usually use. Hermione's parents are Alex and Helen. Hermione's longtime assistant is a younger witch named Cara who's a cousin to Luna Lovegood. Harry's reconciled with Petunia and Dudley. Petunia divorced Vernon, Vernon went to prison and isn't in anyone's life. Dudley's married to a witch who's a healer who he met during the Horcrux hunt year that his family was on the run._

_Finally, I thought about it, and I decided to up the rating level because of a scene later in the story where one of the canon characters engages in some fairly graphic violent behavior/torture. While you can see stronger on cable television, I felt better safe than sorry.  
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><p><strong>Chapter One – A Bolt from the Blue<strong>

_1 September, 2019 – Sunday 1400_

"Director?"

Looking up from the piles of parchmentwork on her desk, Director Hermione Granger-Weasley of the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement smiled at her longtime assistant. Shaking her head at the sense of déjà-vu, Hermione stared at Cara for several seconds.

"Cara, I seem to remember a conversation we had when you first started to work with me quite a few years ago. Unless Minister Shacklebolt has issued a decree I'm not aware of, my name is still Hermione." Seeing the guarded look on the usually cheerful face of the younger witch, Hermione sighed.

"You might as well get to whatever it is that I needed to hear about on the Sunday my children and god-children left for school."

Nodding towards the chair in front of her desk, Hermione watched her long-time friend and confidant slowly move into the room, as if she were facing an extremely unpleasant fate. Smiling supportively, Hermione waited until Cara was seated before speaking again.

"There's no need to look so grim, tell me what's happened, and we'll deal with it as we always do."

Looking hesitant, Cara stared at Hermione for several seconds. Seeing to come to a decision, she took a deep breath.

"Director," she began, but the look from her boss stopped her, and she began again. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I know you were seeing the children off at the platform, Horace was there with little Merri."

"She's starting tomorrow, the same as Lily. I think the two of them have been plotting to convince the Sorting Hat to put them in the same house." Chuckling, Hermione shook her head. "Lily's convinced that since she gets sorted first, she's going to insist that the Hat put Merri wherever she ends up."

Looking nervously down at the folders in her hands, Cara sighed.

"We've gotten results back from Operation Canary. We've identified two high profile leaks into the Ministry. Into this department."

Her expression clouding, Hermione closed her eyes and swore quietly in Gobbledygook. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she leaned back in her chair and waited. Finally looking up at Cara, she could see that she didn't want to tell her anymore than she wanted to hear.

"Might as well give me the worst of it. Which of my coworkers has betrayed the Ministry, betrayed us?"

"The leaks are coming through family members. In both cases, the persons in question are involved in affairs, presumably without the knowledge of their spouses. The two they are involved with are both connected to the Order of the Path, the ones who keep saying they're going to raise up a Dark Champion to harrow the muggleborn from the ranks of the wizarding world."

"Unfortunately, stupidity of that caliber isn't a capital offense." Snorting in disbelief, Hermione shook her head. "I've sent three dozen of those tossers to Azkaban in the last four years, but somehow there always seems to be more of them."

Nodding in agreement, Cara looked at the parchments in her hands. Extracting her briefing notes, she began to summarize the background briefing she had presented almost six months ago when they began this project.

"The center of the cult is over in the Baltic states, outside Tallinn. We have a double agent in place there. He won't give us any names of people working here in Britain, but he'll sell us copies of documents from the Ministry that end up in their hands." Shaking her head, she sighed. "It's expensive, but he's been honest with us in his own way."

"How many people know his name?"

"Just two, myself and his handler in Tallinn. His handler is a squib who works in the British Embassy there. Those pureblood fanatics are so blind that they would never consider her as a conduit to us."

"How did we catch them?" Sitting back in her chair, Hermione closed her eyes to listen to the report.

"A series of briefing papers was distributed over the past six months. Careful errors were magically incorporated into certain copies of the documents, ones that would be evident only when read by individuals other than the ones for whom they were intended. Our plant in Tallinn obligingly 'sold' us copies of the ones received by the Path, telling us where to look for who was doing the selling on our end."

"I detect George and my father's hand in this." Opening one eye, she smiled at Cara's nod. "Let me guess, it was those position papers about the serpent cults that are coming in from the Mayan and Aztec Empires? The ones marked 'Eyes Only'?"

"I was the only one who knew which errors appeared in which set of parchments. It took us three months to get our first results, and then another three to confirm. I didn't want to bring this to you without confirmation."

"If we had a suspicion, we could have monitored the access of the individuals involved, maybe discretely tipped them off that their spouses were playing them for fools." Shaking her head, Hermione sighed in resignation.

"That wouldn't have worked very well, for reasons that will become clear in a bit. I've got the briefing materials on the agents." Swallowing nervously, Cara shook her head.

"Let's see who's been getting shagged while they're shagging the Ministry." Hermione watched her longtime friend carefully as she opened the folio in her lap. Blushing, Cara drew out a sheaf of parchments.

"The male agent is Constantine Krum." Seeing the sharp look on Hermione's face, she nodded reluctantly in confirmation. "Yes, Viktor's younger brother. He retired to London four years ago, ostensibly after his quidditch career was cut short by that bludger from the Welsh team broke his arm and took Bulgaria out of World Cup contention five years ago or so."

"This will kill Viktor. He was never close to his brother, but when he finds out Constantine's actively been supporting these people on top of everything else, he'll be mortified." Looking down at her calendar, she nodded thoughtfully.

"Victor's coaching for Bulgaria these days, try to find out where he's going to be when the news breaks, and I'll send word to him that I need to talk to him. I'd much rather he hears it from me than some smarmy reporter from _The Prophet_ like Parkinson." Missing the startled look from Cara, Hermione shook her head sadly.

"They've been carrying on for at least two years now, from what we've been able to determine. The assignations happen many places, but most often in the home of the Ministry employee. We theorize that it's during these meetings in the home that the official documents are compromised. The judicious use of something to induce their partner to sleep for a bit, and they find what information they can. We don't feel that either of the spouses is guilty of anything directly."

"Other than cheating on their spouse, you mean." Seeing the look on Cara's face, she pinched the bridge of her nose again, vainly trying to ward off the oncoming headache. "I'm sorry; I know this is difficult for you since you know who the two fools are, already." Nodding slowly, Cara looked down again before she spoke.

"And, as fate would have it, the other agent, the female, is Pansy Parkinson." Seeing the disbelieving look on Hermione's face, she grimaced.

"As you well know, aurors have investigated her numerous times over the last twenty years, but this is the first time we've got anything that would stick. We've got surveillance of her over the past three months, we've identified the places she's met with her paramour, and we've documented her use of Unforgivables along with her passing information to members of the Path and other groups. Even a few ragtag Death Eaters have shown up in our net."

"I can't believe it, after twenty some years, we're finally going to make something stick on that piece of work." Looking over at the fireplace in her office, she half considered trying to find Harry so that he could be in on this before dismissing the notion. Looking back to Cara, she grinned. "Do we know where she is, right at this point?"

"We've got agents staking out a small muggle hotel in Edinburgh where she's meeting with the victim of her plot..." A sharp crack cut Cara off. Looking up, Cara saw Hermione's face was flushed as she had taken the flat of her hand and smacked the top of her desk sharply.

"That will be enough of that. Unless you've got evidence that these two have been dosed with some sort of potion, the victim of a charm, or Pansy is actually a veela, these two aren't victims, they're two-timing, philandering, fools. Whether or not their spouses eventually forgive them is their business, but this office will not coddle them."

Cara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I understand. As I said, Ms Parkinson is in Edinburgh with her paramour and Mr. Krum is in a suite at the Savoy here in London. We have a very high degree of certainty he's with the wife, but the Savoy has too many privacy charms and the like to be absolutely certain of who else is in there with him."

Nodding, Hermione began scratching notes in a muggle notebook. Without looking up from her notes, she smiled as she jotted down a stray thought.

"I wonder who's paying the bills at the Savoy; hopefully, Constantine is on an expense account with his employers." Shaking her head, she looked up, "Where did you say they were in Edinburgh?"

"I don't believe I mentioned it. They're at a small muggle establishment called 'The Witchery'."

"And to think, I spent my honeymoon there." Looking up she grimaced. "I don't think Ron and I have been back there since Rose was born." Looking at her assistant, she waited for a few seconds before continuing.

"Cara, I realize that I'm just the Director of this organization, but I was an advocate long enough to recognize when someone is not telling me something." Seeing her friend blush, she sighed.

"I imagine that what you're going to tell me is painful, and I've already gathered that I know the people involved."

"Hermione, you're right." Nodding slowly, Cara averted her eyes. "You do know the principals involved in this. And considering the people involved, it means that I need to have you sign off on the arrests before I direct the aurors to take them down."

"Who's on tap for the pinch?"

"Team Twelve. They've been in on this since the beginning. I've got backup from the Unspeakables, no communication in or out of either suite until it's over with."

"So that's what Teddy has been working on for the past six months." Seeing the look on Cara's face, she chuckled.

"I suppose that's why he hasn't been by the house in months. I was beginning to think I'd offended my godson in some way. Last week Ron and I were in Diagon Alley, and we ran into him and Victoire. He must have gotten a message about this case; he took off like a scalded kneazel after only a few seconds."

Cara took a deep breath, and plunged ahead. "We've someone with the wife, she hasn't been told yet. The husband is in the wind, we can't find him anywhere."

Hermione scribbled a few lines in the notebook before looking up. "Make it a priority; I don't want him to find out from the press or rumor."

Seeing the look in Cara's eyes, Hermione narrowed her gaze. "Cara, tell me. Who is the wife at the Savoy?"

Looking as if she would rather be anywhere else but where she was, Cara's voice dropped to a whisper.

"It's Firebolt. She's the one at the Savoy with Krum."

Shaking her head, Hermione stared in disbelief as the security detail codename for one of her oldest friends hung in the air.

"Firebolt?"

Closing her eyes, Hermione slumped back in her chair. "This is going to kill him. How in the name of Merlin's garters am I going to explain to Harry that Ginny is cheating on him?"

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><p><em><strong>an 2 –** Both of the hotels mentioned in this story actually exist. In fact, I stayed in both of them on my honeymoon, many years ago. Both are very fine, but pricey establishments, and the fact I'm divorced is in no way the fault of either establishment._


	2. When You Think It Can't Get Any Worse

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** First, the obligatory disclaimers. Everything recognizable in the Harry Potter universe is the property of JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. No infringement of anyone's rights under copyright has occurred or is intended. _

_As several people pointed out in their reviews, the method that Cara used to flush out the leaks was used by Tom Clancy in his works. It's also a long used method of counter-intelligence and has been used for centuries in the real world, dating back to the Chinese. _

_Secondly, I would like to thank everyone for their reception of this story. I'm glad people are reading it and taking the time to leave comments. This is the first harmony story that I've posted that's epilogue compliant, usually I'm a member of EWE (Epilogue? What Epilogue?), but this story and one other just wouldn't leave me alone until I worked on them._

_And now, back to our story. When last we met, Hermione was in her office on a Sunday and her longtime assistant has just informed her that Harry's wife is cheating on him …_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – When You Think It Can't Get Any Worse<strong>

"This is going to kill him. How in the name of Merlin's garters am I going to explain to Harry that Ginny is cheating on him?"

"We tried to keep an eye on him. After the four of you parted ways at Platform 9¾, we were able to stay with him as far as the Leaky Cauldron. He spoke to Hannah Longbottom for a second, went towards the Diagon Alley entrance and just vanished."

"I'll deal with finding Harry in a bit. I've never asked him where he goes after the train leaves for Hogwarts, but he's spent the day by himself, somewhere, ever since we graduated. Ginny's stopped asking him, I think, but every year he goes somewhere. I've always respected that, but I'm going to have to track him down this time." Looking a bit distressed, she sat forward and cradled her face in her hands.

"I just hope he can forgive me."

Looking up at Cara, Hermione nodded. "I'd like to put taking Krum and Firebolt down off until I've found Harry. Do you think that's a possibility?"

"According to what we've been able to find out, Firebolt isn't expected back at the house until late this evening. Apparently, she's taking advantage of Seeker's well known habit of being gone all day and putting the time to use."

Sitting up and looking at her assistant, Hermione's eyes narrowed. As she watched her long-time friend, Hermione could see that she was getting more apprehensive, which would be peculiar if she had already given her the worst of the news. Therefore ….

"How long ago did Firebolt forgo her protective detail?"

"Almost five years ago, almost three years before we can place her with Krum."

"I know the protective details are sworn to secrecy about the comings and goings of their principals, but the reason she got rid of her detail wasn't because it was 'interfering with her work as a quidditch correspondent', was it?"

"No, according to the notes from her details, she'd been carrying on for some time with that seeker from Portree that was eventually banned for substance abuse. And before that, with others. When she realized that a member of her detail was a close housemate of your godson's, she lost faith in the discretion of the detail and convinced Seeker and Coronet that she really didn't need a detail after all these years." Not attempting to hide the scorn in her voice, Cara mimicked Ginny's voice while she batted her eyes in an over the top manner.

"I'm just a quidditch reporter and working mother, no one would be interested in me after all these years."

Shaking her head at Cara's impression which was spot on even down to the annoying quaver Ginny slipped into when she was trying to wheedle something out of a wizard, Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment and then jerked her head in Cara's direction.

"That was a year after my husband dismissed his detail, wasn't it?"

Swallowing, Cara looked Hermione in the eye and nodded slowly.

"Yes, Keeper declined his detail about a year before, six months after he was retired from the aurors on medical grounds."

Not taking her eyes from Cara's, Hermione watched her friend closely.

"Cara, who do you have babysitting the wife? Who is waiting to tell her that her husband is cheating on her?"

"That would be me, Hermione. I insisted that since she had to be told, and both Seeker and Nargle weren't available, I would be the one to do it." Tears forming in both witches' eyes, they blinked, almost in unison.

"I'm so sorry; there isn't anything I wouldn't give to make this not be true."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione's mind raced as she processed what she had just heard. Things had been very strained between her and her husband for the past ten years, and they had only gotten worse the last six, ever since he'd left the aurors and started working with his brother.

Everything had fallen into place as Cara spoke, and she realized that she wasn't actually surprised, other than being a bit shocked she had been able to keep this from herself for this long. Releasing the breath she had been holding, Hermione held out her hand to Cara.

"Parchments?"

Blinking in surprise, Cara stared at Hermione's hand for a second.

"Beg pardon?"

Shuddering for a second, Hermione motioned towards Cara with her open hand.

"You said you needed my signature before we could move forward with this. So hand me the bloody parchments so we can get down to business."

In shock, Cara looked down at her hand and then handed the requested parchments to her boss without looking up. As she heard the quill scratching stop the second time, she looked up and saw, with amazement, that Hermione had stood up and was coming around the desk to her.

Standing, Cara watched in amazement as Hermione put the authorizations on the desk and stepped forward. She was engulfed in one of Hermione's hugs. As she felt the arms encircle her, Cara slumped forward and hugged her friend in return. Hermione whispered in her ear, "I'm so sorry you had to do this, I'll be fine, and we'll get through this."

Nodding, Cara held on for several seconds before stepping back. Knuckling the tears from her eyes, she picked up the documents and looked at them. Both sets were signed 'Hermione Jane Granger, Director DMLE, OMFC'. Looking up, she smiled sadly.

"I think these will suffice."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione silently summoned her wand from its resting place on her desk into her hand.

"How good are the wards around the suite at the Savoy?"

"As good as we can make them. Parvati's the loaner from the Unspeakables for this end. She's a bit senior for a field assignment like this, but apparently she apparated into their ready room in Spook Hall this morning and insisted she was going. Her boss gives her a good deal of latitude as you well know, and she put her on the London assignment without a question."

Hermione smiled a watery smile. "Then the only problem will be getting Ginny out of there with all of her body parts attached. But we'll burn that particular bridge when we get back."

"Back?"

Smiling grimly, Hermione gestured towards the door.

"Yes, I said 'back'. And before you ask, I also said 'we'. We're going to Scotland and arrest those two up there. Then I'm going to go find Harry. If I can't find him in an hour, we'll move at the Savoy."

"Hermione, you shouldn't be directly involved in either of these operations. Finding Harry is good, but the other..."

Cutting off at the glare from her friend and boss, Cara involuntarily took a step back at the look in her longtime friend's eyes."

"Cara, I'm not taking operational control of either mission, I'm simply exercising my privilege as Director to be there when two agents working to undermine everything I've spent my adult life working for are arrested. The fact that I happen to know all of the principals involved is a coincidence that I won't allow to interfere with the execution of my sworn duties."

"Coronet isn't going to appreciate it if this muddies up the proceedings before the Wizengamot." Looking troubled, Cara tried to imagine all of the ways the presence of her boss at either location could add to things going pear-shaped.

"Kingsley will just have to understand. I won't be prosecuting these cases. Make a note to floo Carrenton to see if he'll come out of retirement to take lead on any proceedings that come out of today's activities. I don't want any of my staff to have to make a decision about where their loyalties lie in this."

"All of the advocates are with you, you needn't worry about that."

Putting her hand, gently, on Cara's forearm, Hermione stopped her for a second. She gave a self-conscious smile to the younger witch.

"They need to be loyal to the law, not me. That's what I'm trying to avoid, someone becoming overly zealous trying to resolve this for me. Aloysius is a friend, but he reveres the Law more than he does friendship."

Striding through the door, Hermione waited at the lift doors for Cara to catch up. As the lift opened, they stepped inside. As the doors closed, Hermione looked over at the other witch.

"Where are they staging from for the raid in Scotland?"

"They've got the reading room at that bookstore across the way. The manager is a retired auror so she understands discretion. We'll be able to floo to the room and then you can talk to the team leader."

"This keeps getting better and better. I've spent quite some time in that shop. I suppose I'll just have to get used to it." As they waited for the Atrium stop to come, she looked over at Cara and noted that her assistant was barely holding together.

"Cara, I need you to do something for me, if you would."

"Anything Hermione, just name it."

"As soon as I floo to Edinburgh, I want you to go to Peregrine House. If any of the children call the house looking for their father, or me, tell them you're waiting for me to come home and you'll give me the message as soon as I get back. Seal my study and my library until a forensic team can get there." Blushing a bit, Hermione continued.

"Seal the master bedroom off, also. As soon as I find Harry, we'll do the same things at Grimmauld Place and Potter Hall."

"Are you certain? I can do this."

Nodding, Hermione smiled sadly as the doors opened.

"I need someone I trust to secure my home, and I know you'll be there for the kids if they were to call somehow if this lasts longer than the ride to school. And you've been put through the wringer already; go take care of things for me. You have the access codes at the house, you can work from there."

As they walked across the Atrium, Hermione was painfully aware of the few Ministry workers that were in the public area. Dialing up a smile, she nodded as Cara carried on about the upcoming term at Hogwarts and how their children were looking forward to it. As they approached the floo connections and public apparition points, she stopped.

"I'm going to floo to The Tower Library to see if they have that new arithmancy tome by Gundersen. You head on to the house and I'll join you as soon as I pick up a few things."

"I'll put on a pot and wait for you in the kitchen. We'll get these financials squared away in no time. Since both of us are terrible cooks, why don't you pick up some takeout at the Cauldron on the way?"

Nodding appreciatively, Hermione chuckled. "My cooking isn't that bad, but I'll get a couple of orders to go." Reaching into the pot of floo powder sitting by the reserved floo, she touched her wand lightly to the mantle to authorize her use and said in a clear ringing voice. "The Tower Library Reading Room."

As the flames turned green she stepped into the fireplace. As she tumbled past innumerable grates, she tried to compose herself. The flashing sights of people going about their lives, acting as if the normalcy of daily life was a given, she bit her lip as she tumbled into a large open room.

Standing and brushing a few bits of ash from her robes, she looked around the room. The comfortable furniture of The Tower Library bookstore's reading room was still there, but it was covered with equipment and lounging wizards and witches, none of which were reading anything as mundane as the new tell-all about life behind scenes with the Weird Sisters.

Two witches were hunched over a scrying bowl, making notes on whatever they were observing. Five aurors were sprawled in the overstuffed chairs and chesterfields, trying to relax before they were called to action. One young wizard, dressed in the black fatigues that the special operations aurors had adopted for missions instead of the traditional robes was staring at her in horror and disbelief.

Smiling, Hermione walked over towards him. "Team Leader?"

Blushing, acutely aware that every eye in the room was focused upon the upcoming interaction, Teddy Lupin stepped towards his godmother.

"Director. I'm a bit surprised to see you here."

Nodding brusquely, Hermione forced a smile.

"Team Leader Lupin, I personally authorized Operation Canary. One thing that you should have realized by now is that there are times in life when the easy thing would be to allow others to carry on when things become…difficult. The right thing to do is to soldier on and make certain that everything is taken care of." Seeing the look on his face, she softened her expression.

"I'm certain that there will come a time in the next few days when I'll have to stop and evaluate everything, but for right now, I'm here to see that the right thing is done." Resisting the urge to retreat to being his mother, she smiled at the look of understanding in his eyes.

"Director, would you like me to brief you in on the operation?"

Sighing, Hermione closed her eyes for a second before she nodded in return.

"If you would."

Taking her elbow, he guided her over to the table where the two witches were making notes on what they were observing in the scrying bowl. Looking down, Hermione could see the elongated view of a hotel hallway that she vaguely remembered.

"We've got extensible eyes in the hallway and extendable ears under the door of the suite, so we're fairly certain that they're in the suite and…" Blushing, Teddy stopped what he was saying and looked at the witch to his right who was pointedly looking at the scrying bowl for assistance.

Smiling sadly, Hermione prompted, "I believe 'occupied' is the word you were looking for, Team Leader?"

Blushing again, Teddy smiled self-consciously. "Yes, they're fairly well occupied." Seeing a wand movement to his left, Teddy threw a glare at the witch on the left, and shook his head.

"No need to pipe the audio into the room, Millicent, just let us know if it sounds as if they're getting ready to move somewhere else."

Seeing the look on Hermione's face, Teddy shrugged.

"We planted a coin in Un... ah the wizard's trouser pocket. They seem to be in close proximity to where the trousers are currently, so we can make a coin entry and catch them…"

Seeing her godson trying to spare her feelings, she prompted him again.

"Catch them in the act is what you were going to say, correct?"

Nodding nervously, Teddy agreed. "Yes, we can catch them unawares."

Holding out her hand, Hermione quirked an eyebrow until Teddy handed her a bronze coin. Looking around to see that everyone was watching her, she smiled.

"If everyone would gather around, I'd like to say something and provide a small demonstration."

Waiting until the aurors gathered around her, Hermione nodded encouragingly to her godson. Clearing her throat, she smiled at the assembled group.

"In case anyone here is unaware, I'm DMLE Director Granger." Seeing the knowing looks on the faces around her and not a few raised eyebrows at the unhyphenated surname, she shrugged. "I'm also Team Leader Lupin's godmother, so this isn't a good day for either of us. However, neither of those facts should in any way interfere with how you're going to go about your duties today."

Waiting for a bit of murmuring to settle down, Hermione continued.

"The one thing you might not be aware of is that I was the one who created the portkey coins that make your lives easier from time to time." Seeing the speculative looks on their faces, she blushed. Holding up the bronze coin in her hand Hermione smiled.

"I'm going to tell you a little trick that isn't in the training manual for these Ravenclaw coins. While the standard practice is to allow you to apparate to the area of the target coin silently, you don't have to."

Seeing the confused look on their faces, she smiled.

"Standard Operating Procedure for an operation like this is for the team to apparate into the area, silently. One of you will try to accio the wands from the bad guys while the rest of you stun them and control the scene, am I correct?" Nodding thoughtfully, Teddy smiled.

"Correct Director Granger. That would be the SOP for this. Not that you've ever done anything remotely like this, of course." Trying to keep from smiling, Teddy was rolling his eyes as some of the stories his father had told him about their exploits, both before and after leaving Hogwarts, came to mind. Teddy was always amazed at the number of people who continually underestimated the capabilities of his godmother, much to their dismay.

"Of course not, Team Leader. Merlin forbid a bushy haired bookworm get her hands dirty with real life." Smiling wryly, Hermione produced her wand and made a peculiar motion over the coin while she spoke the word 'audiblus'.

"That changes the default setting to normal apparition volume. All of you are fairly quiet when you apparate, or you wouldn't be on Team Twelve, but since you're using the coin, it will set the volume. The SOP calls for a silent insertion." Repeating the motion, this time she intoned 'audiblus maximus'.

"That setting, on the other hand, will cause a reentry apparition sound that would be heard over the snoring of former Team Leader Weasley."

From the shocked looks on their faces, Hermione could see that, while most of the aurors in the room had been assigned to Team Twelve since her soon to be ex-husband had left the service; they were all familiar with the legendary snoring of retired auror Ronald Weasley.

Shaking her head, the witch Teddy had earlier identified as Millicent looked deep in thought while Teddy was grinning from ear to ear.

"With all due respect, Director, why would we want to do that?"

Hermione chuckled evilly as she considered the witch's question. Quirking an eyebrow, she could see that Teddy had already sussed out her intention, but she wanted to explain it herself, so she shook him off with a sly smile.

"Well, I wouldn't dream of interfering, but there is a variation of this plan that calls for one disillusioned auror to enter the area silently if they are absolutely certain that everyone in the target zone is preoccupied and accio the wands. Two seconds later, the rest of the team comes in with a clap of thunder that should scare the pants off your targets, if they were wearing any. Gives one a psychological edge in the questioning that is certain to follow."

Staring at her for several seconds, the young witch finally gave the Director a cheeky grin.

"With all due respect, Ma'am, but you're even scarier than they say you are." Laughing, she looked over at her team leader. "This one changed your nappies?" Blushing, Teddy nodded.

"You have no idea." Looking at his godmother, he shook his head. "You're still not going in with the first wave, Director."

Smiling, Hermione nodded. "Wouldn't dream of it, Team Leader. But you will send a patronus the moment that the suite is secured."

"Director, may I speak with you for a second?" Pointing towards an alcove off the main room, Teddy quirked an eyebrow.

Hermione smiled as she saw the members of his team adjusting their bronze coins. Walking quickly over to the alcove, she stepped out of the line of sight as Teddy joined her and cast a quick muffliato between them and the rest of his team.

"Mum, are you alright? Where's Dad?" Concern and anguish was written on his face as he scanned hers, looking for some sign as to how she was coping with this fiasco.

"Teddy, honestly I'm a bit in shock over this. But we'll do what we need to do." Looking away for a second, she shrugged. "They haven't located Harry yet. I'm going to go look for him as soon as things are wrapped up here. I'd like to tell him what's happening before they pickup Firebolt."

"I've been sick about this for months. I wanted to tell you and Dad, but I couldn't."

Smiling sadly, Hermione put her arms around her godson. Giving him a hug, she reached up and ruffled his hair.

"I know cub. And this explains why you took off from us in Diagon like you did."

"I just couldn't stand there and watch Uncle Ron act as if everything was fine." A sheepish grin on his face, Teddy blushed.

"When I found myself contemplating the most painful variant of the Bat Bogey to use on him, I knew I had to get out of there. Once this is finished, maybe I can get Vic to stop giving me the cold shoulder over that. She's still upset with me for rushing off."

"Bring her by Peregrine House tonight after you get this wrapped up.

Ready to do this?"

Teddy closed his eyes for a second and morphed into the likeness of his godfather. Hermione's stomach fluttered as Harry's familiar voice asked.

"Think this will brighten up Uncle Ron's day?"

"I have a better idea. You can do a partial transformation can't you?"

Seeing his nod, Hermione smiled wickedly, "Just think about Molly's vocal chords. I can imagine hearing her voice asking him what he was doing at the top of her lungs might just give him a muggle heart attack and save the Ministry the cost of a trial."

Shaking his head, Teddy reversed the transformation and chuckled.

"That's just scary."

Walking back out into the room, as he finished morphing back into his usual form, Teddy nodded to his team.

"All right, you lot. It's showtime. Cavendish, you've got the point. Get yourself disillusioned and we'll jump this off."

A young witch nodded and faded from view. Seeing that the others were all watching him, he nodded to Hermione one last time before turning back to his squad.

"All right, everyone's got your coin set?" Looking around the room, Teddy waited for confirming nods from all before he smiled.

"I'll set the count. Cav you're on three, the rest of us are on five."

The team shuffled into an arc with Cavendish behind them. Looking to see everyone was in position, Teddy put up his hand.

"On my mark."

"One" Wands were drawn.

"Two" Half the team crouched in anticipation.

"Three" Cavendish disappeared without a sound.

"Four" Hermione whispered "Godspeed"

"Five" The count was almost drowned out by the thunderous cracks of five simultaneous apparitions.

"Six" Hermione said as she activated the coin she'd never returned and disappeared.

Staring at the empty spot on the floor where the Director of DMLE had been standing, Claire Wood, the young Unspeakable left monitoring the scrying bowl shook her head, having seen what was going to happen. Not through the Sight, but by the reputation of Hermione Granger.

She had been raised on stories of the 'Golden Trio', told to her by her father Oliver. Not the garbage that 'everyone knows' or the drivel that had been printed in The Daily Prophet, but stories of the things he had observed himself and been told by people he trusted who actually knew them. Members of his old Gryffindor quidditch squad had kept a careful eye on them and formed their own opinions about things. And it was from these tales that she knew that the only person who could have kept her from doing what she did would have been Harry Potter.

Chuckling, she drew her wand and called forth her patronus. Smiling at the eagle owl that was patiently there waiting for her to speak, she nodded. "Go find my boss. Tell her Dr. Gayle has gone rogue on us, again."

Spreading its massive wings, the patronus launched itself at the floo and disappeared. Smiling wryly, Claire turned back to her scrying bowl and waited for the show to start, wondering why she hadn't brought any popcorn with her.


	3. Losing Ron's Mojo

**The Phoenix Syndrome  
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><p><em>an – Dearly beloved, we're gathered here …. Oops. Wrong story. But we are gathered here for the continuation of a little story about what happens if we actually let the dreaded epilogue come to pass. In case anyone's interested, everything Harry Potter that's recognizable belongs to JK Rowling and her merry band of corporate partners. Actually, Harry belongs to Hermione, but that's neither here nor there. For the purposes of disclaiming, he's JK's. And now, the curtain's going up. Sit back in your comfy chairs, avoid the notice of Cardinal Molly and the St. Ottery Inquisition, and enjoy the next chapter of this little drama._

**Chapter Three – Losing Ron's Mojo**

Auror Team Twelve had spent countless hours over the past several years practicing insertions and extractions. The Ministry's 'go to' group when it came to delicate and sensitive operations, the witches and wizards of Team Twelve lived up to the standards set by their former leader, Harry Potter who now commanded the entire Auror detachment. Precision operations executed with subtlety and discretion made them the best of the best.

While precision marked the execution of 'Operation Shagadelic', the team being huge fans of the seventh and eighth Austin Powers movies made this code name inevitable, the usual subtlety with which they operated was a bit lacking.

Cavendish apparated into the suite by herself and silently summoned a trio of wands to her outstretched hand, all the while trying to ignore the naked, entwined bodies in front of her. Steeling herself for what was to come, she silently cast a minor charm to protect her ears for the next ten seconds just as it sounded as if the hammer of a vengeful deity, or a highly irate Director of the DMLE, had struck the room.

Her five teammates appeared around her and secured the stunned couple most enthusiastically. The male first turned beet red and then pale as a ghost as "Ronald Bilius Weasley, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" rang out through the room.

Looking frantically around, trying to find where his mother was hiding in the disaster his life had just become, Ron Weasley momentarily forgot he had been caught in a very compromising position just moments before.

Staring in disbelief at the auror detachment he used to lead, he started to speak, when a silky smooth voice interrupted him. Full of menace and promise, the absolutely last voice in the universe he wanted to hear broke the silence of the room.

"Ronald, you're about to be read your rights. While there's no way I'd ever act as your advocate, my professional advice is that you shut it and listen to what the Team Leader is going to tell you. There is absolutely nothing you have to say that is of any interest to anyone in this room, save answering official questions regarding your incredible stupidity."

Staring at her in disbelief, Ron shook his head.

"Bloody hell, Herms. You can't just drag a sodding auror team in on something like this. Kingsley will have your head for violating…"

Ron's face turned slightly purple as he suddenly became unable to breath. Stepping forward, Team Leader Lupin stared down at him in disgust.

"The Director suggested that you shut your sodding pie hole. I realize you've forgotten every bloody thing you ever knew about decorum and protocol, but when the Director suggests something, that means you bloody well do it."

"Team Leader?"

"Yes Director Granger?" Ignoring the shocked but strangled look on Ron's face, Teddy smiled as he nodded in his godmother's direction.

"Language. And please release the spell. If he passes out, he'll miss the part where you read him his rights. While I'll admit that under DORA, there aren't that many of them. But there are a few so he should probably be awake to hear them."

Struggling to sit up from the rather exposed position she had found herself in when things went pear shaped, Pansy Parkinson laughed.

"Oh, please. Just because you can't keep Won-won in your own bed, doesn't mean this is any sort of official matter. I'm certain my readers will be most interested to read about your appalling misuse of Ministry personnel in a very personal and private matter."

Staring coldly at her longtime nemesis, Hermione smiled.

"Ms Parkinson, you've totally misread the situation. At this point, I honestly don't give a tinker's damn what you've been doing with this pathetic excuse for a wizard, other than you've apparently used him as a dupe to gain access to confidential and classified government documents and conveyed them to members of the Order of the Hidden Path, former Death Eaters, and others. If you'll just keep your knickers on…" Pausing, Hermione chuckled and shook her head.

"Sorry about that, if you'll just be patient, Team Leader Lupin will formerly arrest both of you and read you a rather long list of charges and specifications, about three dozen of which fall under the heading of the Defense Of the Realm Act." Smiling, Hermione shrugged at the dark-haired witch

Turning a bit pale, Pansy narrowed her eyes and stared at Hermione for several seconds.

"I don't think that's how this will play out at all. Everyone will see how you're simply a desperate, spiteful, aging witch who's trying to punish her husband for seeking comfort from a cold and joyless marriage."

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees and the room became ominously quiet. Struggling to sit upright and maintain some sort of dignity, Ron cleared his throat.

"Pansy, now probably isn't the best time to go into all of that. What say we get this behind us and we'll speak to someone a bit more rational when we get to the Ministry?" Sneering at him, Pansy laughed.

"Really Ronald. Now's your chance to tell her exactly what you think of her. For fifteen years I've listened to you piss and moan about her and how unhappy you've been since you met her. Now would seem to be the perfect opportunity, dear."

Clearing his throat, Teddy shook his head slightly.

"Right now, since the two of you still have the right to remain silent, I would strongly suggest that you exercise that right while it remains available to you. You'll be questioned at length, later in front of a special magistrate, but for the moment why don't the two of you simply shut it?"

For the first time, Pansy looked less than confidant. Gathering her dignity around her, a feat made significantly more difficult since she was completely starkers and had just been 'caught in the act' with the husband of the witch watching her with complete disdain, she shook her head.

"I demand a hearing in front of the entire Wizengamot. None of this 'special magistrate' nonsense."

"Ms Parkinson, Mr. Weasley. The two of you will be charged under the provisions of the Defense Of the Realm Act, which mandates that the two of you will be taken to a high security containment facility where you will be arraigned by a Magistrate that has been appointed by the Wizengamot to handle matters of this sort. Once you arrive at Caer Sidi, everything will be explained to you." Shaking her head, Hermione smiled, evilly.

"Herms, you can't mean that. I don't care how irrational you've become, sending me to Caer Sidi isn't right. You've no call."

Looking to his godmother for permission, Teddy caught the subtle nod of her head and sighed. Kneeling down beside his prisoner, he waited until Ron was looking at him before he spoke.

"Ron, for the moment, I'm going to be speaking as Teddy Lupin, not Team Leader Lupin. The only reason I'm doing this is because at one time you were an auror and an honorable man and if my sibs ever ask me about arresting their father or uncle, I want to be able to say it happened with a bit of dignity. I'm going to explain this very carefully to you, so please listen." Seeing the older wizard nod, Teddy continued.

"For the past six months, there has been an ongoing investigation into security leaks of classified information from the Ministry. The investigation has uncovered two sources for the leaks, and you're one of them." Seeing the look of disbelief in his eyes, Teddy nodded.

"It would seem that while you were playing hide the wand with Ms Parkinson here, she's been taking advantage of the situation and copying classified documents from Peregrine House. Also, probably from the Director's official office since we've evidence you met with her in there on at least four occasions during the past six months."

Ignoring the strangled noises coming from behind him, Teddy closed his eyes for a second.

"For the sake of Rose and Hugo, I sincerely hope that you're simply a bitter arse who was cheating on his wife and not a traitor who was actively aiding and abetting your paramour, but the ongoing investigation will tell us that.

"When I stand back up, Teddy Lupin won't be in the room, he won't even been in Scotland. Team Leader Lupin will formally arrest the both of you, letting you know that the two of you are the subjects of an ongoing investigation. Then he will inform you of your rights, inform you that you're being charged under DORA and various other statutes, and tell you to stand up so you can be transported to the confinement facility.

"Team Leader Lupin won't be in the mood to play, and if either of you give him the least amount of cheek or trouble, he'll probably make you regret the day either of you were born."

Looking up at his second, Teddy nodded at the look in her eyes.

"Auror Cavendish, would you please seize as evidence any and all clothing and personal effects you can find in the room?"

Smiling coldly, the witch began gathering all of the clothes and other personal items in the room and placing them in evidence bags. Sealing them all, she attached an evidence portkey to the bags and they disappeared in a pulse of blue light to the evidence vault in London to await inventory and inspection.

While she was performing this duty, Teddy stood up, formally arrested the pair, informed them of the charges facing them, and officially notified them that they were the subjects on an ongoing investigation.

"This is wrong, even for you Herms. I can't believe you're going to humiliate us like this." Looking around, Ron shook his head and looked over at Pansy. "Don't worry, once we see the magistrate, we'll tell them how she's just doing this to punish us for going behind her back."

Staring at him in disbelief, Pansy rolled her eyes. Looking up at Hermione, she smirked.

"I can give you names, places and vault numbers."

"Ms Parkinson, you really should wait until you've spoken to counsel before trying to broker a deal. The statement you just uttered can be construed as an admission of guilt. As an advocate and officer of the court, I am duty bound to tell you that since you were informed of your rights by the team leader, that admission will be considered admissible in court. An advocate cleared to hear evidence of this nature will be provided to you as soon as you are settled in you new accommodations."

Breaking off the conversation, Hermione stepped back as Teddy stepped forward. Looking down at his two prisoners, he eyed them suspiciously.

"Can you stand or will you need assistance?" Pansy gracefully rolled to her feet and stood, apparently unaffected, as she was standing there starkers in front of a squad of aurors and her longtime nemesis with her hands in magic dampening restraints behind her back. Less graceful, Ron struggled to his feet and tried to find some way to stand with his hands secured behind his back that afforded some sort of imaginary dignity.

Shaking her head, Hermione conjured a pair of floor length cloaks in a lurid, almost fluorescent, green that afforded the two prisoners a modicum of dignity. Seeing the look on Teddy's face, she shrugged.

"Team Leader, will you have the prisoners escorted to Caer Sidi?" Nodding to her godson, she kept her face impassive as four of the aurors surrounded the two prisoners. Reaching into belt pouches, they removed six small, battered individual pie tins. Affixing one each to the back of each prisoner's head with a sticking charm, they held the other four in their hands and waited.

"Senior Auror Cavendish?" Hermione waited until the blond witch acknowledged her with a nod and a terse smile.

"I'll follow this up with official parchmentwork once I get back to the Ministry, but would you inform the Gaoler at Caer Sidi that the Chief Auror is not to interview these two suspects, or anyone else being held in connection with this operation without my express permission and presence."

"Trying to hide from Harry what a bitch you're being?" Ron asked defiantly. "You know he'd think this is wrong."

Staring at him in disbelief, Hermione watched the gazes of the aurors transporting him harden. Shaking her head, she was going to ignore him when Pansy started laughing.

"She's only worried about having to prosecute Harry after he's lost his temper. He's the one she's protecting here…"

"All right, that's about enough from both of you." Teddy glared at Pansy, fingering his wand while she lowered her eyes. "Cav, make certain the Gaoler limits access to these two according to the Director's wishes." Shaking his head, he sighed, "All right, time to make like dustmen and get the rubbish where it belongs."

Clearing her throat, Hermione nodded as every eye in the room was fixed on her. Turning her attention to the team second, she nodded.

"Senior Auror Cavendish, do you have another evidence bag available?" Nodding warily, Teddy's second flashed her boss a quick look of panic before speaking.

"Yes mum. Standing procedure, I always try to bring twice as many as I think I'll need. Only run out the once when we ended up having to take a bunch of muggles into custody after a concert. Some idiot in Intelligence didn't know the difference between Deadheads and Death Eaters."

"If you wouldn't mind, there's something else that needs to go to the evidence locker. It can be released to prisoner Weasley if and when he's ever released from custody." Ignoring the puzzled look in the young witches' eyes, Hermione waited until she held out the evidence bag before moving.

Taking her wand and tucking it behind her ear in a manner reminiscent of her friend Luna Lovegood – Scarmander, she pointedly looked at her godson and smiled as she removed a pair of rings from her left hand. Dropping them one by one into the bag, she nodded at the wide-eyed auror holding the container.

"If you wouldn't mind putting that with the rest of the evidence and personal effects from this case, I would be greatly obliged to you."

Before anyone could speak, Hermione turned to her husband. Staring at him for several seconds, she spoke, with a very quiet voice.

"Ronald?"

Looking hopeful, Ron nodded to her. "Yes Herms?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously as she shook her head. "I've told you repeatedly for over twenty-five years, never call me that." Turning to her godson, she smiled sadly.

"We're done here."

Teddy took his wand and tapped each pan three times and muttered the phrase "Portus". Cavendish and another auror departed first, followed by Pansy, another auror, then Ron, and finally the last auror in the transport detail.

Teddy turned to the remaining auror. "Freddie, could you do us a favor and pop back over to the bookstore and let folks know that we'll need the forensic boffins up here in about ten minutes?"

Nodding amicably, the tall gangly auror smiled.

"No problem boss. I'll keep everyone out for ten." Turning to Hermione, his expression became serious.

"Director, our team was on this entire sorry mess for the past six months. While we were waiting for the 'go', we all agreed that every one of us would be available if it were needed in some sort of civil proceeding that was to come out of this." Seeing the look in Hermione's eyes, he smiled.

"None of us liked what was going on, everyone in Twelve wanted to go to you and the Chief about this whole sorry situation from the start."

Smiling, her eyes bright with emotion, Hermione swallowed once before speaking.

"Auror Gunn, would you please give my regards to every member of Team Twelve when you speak to them. I know that your Team Leader will undoubtedly echo my sentiments, but I have nothing but the highest admiration for your professionalism and dedication. It's my hope that there won't be any need for a long drawn out civil proceeding from this." Shaking her head sadly, she sighed, "Surely, there's a limit to how hurtful one man can be."

Looking a bit skeptical, Auror Gunn stepped back. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the bronze coin from its pouch and silently disappeared from sight. Teddy looked around and then made a peculiar motion with his wand.

"Mum, do you want me to go with you to London?" Smiling at him, Hermione shook her head.

"Theodore Remus Lupin, you know that procedure dictates that you remain on site until the forensic crew releases the scene to you." Seeing the grin on his face at the use of his full name, she shook her head.

"Honestly, you're as bad as your father about procedure."

At the mention of Harry, Teddy suddenly sobered.

"Mum, I need to tell you something. I've listened to all of the surveillance from both ends of this operation. Both Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginny have rationalized their behavior by implying that you and Dad have behaved inappropriately. From what I've been able to piece together, both of them go on about it at length." Shaking her head, Hermione growled in disbelief.

"That's absurd, your father and I have never once acted even remotely inappropriately"

Teddy waited until her eyes widened before answering her.

"You do realize just how absurd that last sentence sounds, don't you?" Staring at him for several seconds, Hermione sighed.

"I can see your point. I just can't believe that Ron or Ginny would actually believe that Harry and I would betray them like that. We've been best friends since we were eleven, for Merlin's sake."

"You met Dad the same day you met Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginny met Dad that day also."

Looking at him with disbelief, Hermione stared.

"Don't tell me you think it too?"

"Mum, until I was five, my mum and my dad lived in the same house and I thought about them like every other ankle biter thinks about his parents. You two lived in Grimmauld Place; you tucked me in at night and got me up in the morning. One weekend a month I'd go stay with Grandmother Andi and another I'd stay with Grandmother and Grandpop Granger. I knew that I had a set of parents that passed away, Mum Tonks and Pappa Remus, but I knew that Mum and Dad loved me."

Shaking his head, he grinned. "What I didn't realize until the summer I was five was that you two were marrying other people. Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginny were around all the time, but I didn't think much of it. Once you four got married, we all still lived at Grimmauld Place until I went to school, and I ended up with five younger sibs out of the deal, but it was a bit confusing for me."

Shaking her head, Hermione closed the distance between them and hugged him.

"Teddy dear, your father and I both wanted you to be loved and happy. We never meant to upset you or keep anything from you." Returning her hug, Teddy held her for a second before answering.

"You're missing my point Mum. You and Dad look, act, and just feel like a married couple. When I think about how I want my marriage with Vicki to be, I don't compare it to you and Uncle Ron, or Merlin forbid Dad and Aunt Ginny; I pray that I can be as good a partner to her as Dad is to you. If I can be half the partner to Vicki that Dad is to you, then I'll consider myself successful."

Shocked, Hermione took a step back and stared at him.

"Teddy, Harry and I have known each other for…" Looking down at her watch, she smiled, "…half an hour short of twenty eight years." Looking back up at him, she shook her head at the look he was giving her.

"During that time, we've both grown up and changed, but the essence of the two scared eleven year olds who met on the Hogwarts Express has always remained constant. Your father was my first true friend, and even though we've rowed and been thoughtless to each other from time to time, we've remembered that fact and it's served us well.

"You're as kind and considerate a man as Harry is, and you had the advantage of actually knowing how to talk to a witch, so you were light years ahead of Harry. I have no doubt you're an excellent husband to Vicki."

Looking down, Teddy glanced at his watch.

"The forensic teams will be here in two minutes. And if you're still on scene when they arrive, you'll never get out of here because MacGregor will want to talk to you about the new equations he's using or some sort of arcane substitution he's come up with and you'll never get out of here to find Dad."

"I've got to find him before they go and arrest the other two." Looking somber, Hermione shook her head before stepping back and squaring her shoulders. "Has he ever said anything to you about where he goes after the train departs King's Cross?"

Looking slightly embarrassed, Teddy stared down at the floor for a second. When he looked up at his godmother, he nodded.

"One year, when I was about seven, I remember Aunt Ginny giving Dad all kinds of grief when he came back to the house that evening. I was supposed to be in bed, but she'd been storming around the house, complaining, so I went down to the kitchen to wait for him. I was sitting there drinking cocoa when the floo opened and Dad tumbled out. For a second before it closed, I heard a familiar voice telling him to be careful.

"Go ask Aunt Hannah at the Leaky Cauldron, I think she knows where his is, or at least how to find him."

Hermione looked quizzically at him, "You've never said anything before."

"You never asked. Aunt Ginny made such a fuss that I decided that if whatever Dad was doing was important enough for him to take the tongue lashing she dished out, then it was important enough for me to keep his secret. If you would have ever asked me, or appeared disturbed about it, then I would have said something."

Shaking her head, Hermione tapped the coin in her hand and changed the destination point to the secure room the Ministry kept at the Savoy for housing guests who needed anonymity.

"She was his wife; I'm only his best mate."

Just before the coin activated, Teddy smiled. "The best mate who knows, to the half hour, exactly how long she's know him. Vick and I will come by the house tonight if the two of you need us for anything,"

Nodding, Hermione smiled and disappeared. Shaking his head, Teddy counted silently to 'ten' before the faint pop of an apparition intruded upon the scene. Looking up, he smiled as Claire Wood, the Unspeakable assigned to the operation, joined him.

"Oi Teddy, everything's good from my end."

"You can testify that the two of us tampered with nothing in the suite while we were here?" Nodding, Teddy smiled at her. Nodding cheerfully, Claire dimpled as she smiled in return.

"Everything's pristine except for the sweaty sheets those two left behind. And the specifics of any conversations you two may or may not have had are under Unspeakable's Seal, so even my boss can't make me reveal them until I feel it's proper. Not that she would ask me."

Looking strangely at her temporary boss and classmate from Hogwarts, she bit her lower lip a bit. Seeing her going into 'thinking mode', Teddy nodded.

"Ask already. Better now than you waking me up at oh dark thirty like last time. Vicki's still annoyed about your patronus waking us from a sound sleep."

"Sorry about that, I was doing an all-nighter with Parv down in one of the summoning rooms and a question about the Glencoe case came to me." Smiling, she chuckled at the embarrassed voices she remembered from that night; deciding 'sleep' was still a universal euphemism.

"You do realize that your Mum is a bit delusional, don't you?"

Looking around for a second, Teddy quirked an eyebrow at his friend. Seeing her amused nod confirming they were still secure, he released the breath he was holding.

"You have to listen very carefully to my Mum. While she's usually scrupulously honest, to a fault, there are times when she's literal when it serves her purpose."

Looking puzzled, Claire tilted her head a bit.

"I'm not following"

"I'd never put her or Dad in the position where they'd end up lying to me, they do enough of that to themselves. I ask very specific questions usually and make statements the rest of the time. All she said was that they were best mates, had been since they were eleven, and that they'd never been inappropriate."

Nodding thoughtfully, Claire smiled. "She never denied being madly in love with your father, did she?"

Sighing, Teddy shook his head. "The two of them have been in denial for almost twenty eight years now. I knew I loved Vicki the day I realized that I looked at her the exact same way Dad looks at Mum.

"Uncle Ron's a jealous idiot and a right cruel bastard, but he's correct about one thing. It's been the two of them against the entire world since they were twelve."


	4. In Search of … Harry Potter

**The Phoenix Syndrome  
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><p><em><strong>an –** Once again, gentle readers, we're back. And, for the record, I don't own Harry Potter or anything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe. That's all the property of JK Rowling and her merry band of corporate partners. Also, you can blame Seamus for the fact that I need to mention that I don't own any part of the Star Wars universe. Though, personally, I think that both Lavender and Parvati would make incredible Jedi Knights. Just saying._

_Also, I'm not certain if Leonard Nimoy owns the "In Search of …" franchise/series, but I'll chuck the credit in his lap and let him sort it out.  
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><p><strong>Chapter Four – In Search of <strong>…<strong> Harry Potter**

The familiar discomfort of the hook through the navel usually associated with travel by portkey was muted by the charms built into the portkey coin. Finding herself standing in a rather overdone hotel suite sitting room, Hermione glanced around at the faces staring at her.

The other half of Auror Team Twelve was scattered around the room, attending to last minute details before going into action. Seeing the look on Senior Team Leader Horace Smithers' face, Hermione nodded to him and started heading in his direction. Her longtime friend Parvati Thomas stood up from where she was staring at a mirror that occasionally changed colours as a silvery mist swirled through it and headed to join them.

As she reached Horace, Hermione noticed that everyone else in the room was pointedly looking somewhere else and obviously busy as Parvati joined them. Brushing protocol aside, the Unspeakable stepped up to her and wrapped her in a hug that would rival one of Molly Weasley's. Hermione found herself wrapping her arms around her old housemate and was startled to hear the venom in her voice as Parvati whispered in her ear.

"Lav and I are going to kill them both. Very slowly and very painfully."

"No you're not, but I do appreciate the sentiment. Ronald's the father of my children and Ginevra's the mother of Harry's. If nothing else, that's five reasons why you won't, you love Lily and Rose almost as much as I do and you couldn't keep something like that from them."

Stepping back, Parvati held her longtime friend at arm's length and looked her up and down, as if searching for something.

"Hermione, you're too collected and calm about this. You should be shooting sparks out of your ears and laying waste to entire counties."

"I do believe that's on my schedule for Tuesday. I'll have to check with Cara to make certain, but I seem to remember something about laying waste to the Midlands at eleven." Smiling wryly, Hermione shook her head at her old dormmate.

"I suppose Chastity would diagnose it as some form of shock, but after about ten seconds things just fell into place and I've been working to resolve all of the loose ends with this so I can go back to Peregrine House, put up my feet, and have a good cry."

Looking over at the tall auror that dwarfed both of them, Hermione nodded her head.

"Senior Team Leader, I apologize for dragging you out on the day when you sent your daughter to school for the first time. Seems as if an eternity has passed since we saw the children off on the Express."

"Director..." seeing the look on her face, he smiled in capitulation and smoothly began again.

"Hermione, there's nothing to apologize for. Today is one of the days that no one likes." Glancing around, Horace looked at his ultimate boss pointedly.

"Cara?" Seeing him nod, Hermione smiled. 'You wife was on her last legs, emotionally, from all of this. I sent her to Peregrine House to secure the premises and field calls in case any of the children tried to get in touch with either myself or their father."

"Hermione, she's been heartsick about this for months. Cara has dreaded today, as far as I'm concerned it was way overdue."

"Horace, I appreciate your honesty, believe me. Right now, I need the professional opinion of both of you." Nodding to Parv, Hermione smiled tightly. "How long can you two keep a lid on things here?"

"Still haven't found Seeker, have we?" Nodding knowingly, Horace looked over at his Unspeakable counterpart and shrugged. "The way he's been gobbling down those blue muggle pills, I don't imagine they'd need to come out until Tuesday."

"I've looked at the images from some of their other trysts; I'd say you've got two, maybe three hours until they call out for room service. Even then, we can cover it." Smirking, Parvati closed her eyes and suddenly there was a nondescript young woman standing there in Savoy livery. "Your room service is ready. Two buckets of oysters and a swift kick in the arse, just as you ordered. You worthless slag."

"Please, when we arrest them, I'd like for them to arrive at Caer Sidi not needing to see the infirmary before they see their cells." Looking pointedly at Parvati, Hermione nodded, as the other witch blushed a bit.

"It took me two days to sort out the mess when Goyle was arrested that final time." Holding up her hand at the look on Parvati's face, Hermione smirked. "Yes the bastard was a slimy evil git and a rapist, but I can't go to the mat for you this time if Harry's soon to be ex-wife or the younger brother of someone half the wizarding world thinks I carried on a mad romance with during that bloody tournament ends up needing attention to reattach any of their assorted body parts. Promise me you'll behave yourself or, so help me, I'll go to Spook Hall myself and have Lavender assign me someone who can."

Chuckling, Parvati and Horace looked at each other. Exchanging an amused look as they both remembered that raid when they finally arrested Goyle after almost a year of trying to catch the serial rapist that had been haunting wizarding and muggle nightspots, the two nodded before Parvati turned her attention back to Hermione.

"I still say it wasn't my fault that Goyle splinched that one ironic part of his anatomy when we transported him to the Ministry. And the healers reattached it without any problems, so he had it for the six months it took to convict and execute him. A fat lot of good it did him, but he could piss and moan right up until the moment they led him out to the yard at Azkaban."

Staring defiantly at her friend, Parvati tried to keep a straight face as the two witches stared each other down. Finally blinking, Parvati nodded and smiled.

"As much as it is in my power, both will be delivered to Caer Sidi in as good a condition as possible." Watching her friend carefully, she shook her head. "You're the one I'm worried about. If Gin starts up, I really don't think you should be there."

"Stars, Parv. If I could be civilized while Ronald was being arrested, this should be a piece of cake."

"Yea, right. It's not as if you haven't been Harry's own personal deva for the past thirty years." Smirking at her old friend, Parvati laughed at the blush that appeared on Hermione's cheeks.

"It's not like that at all. And it's only been twenty-eight." Looking to change the subject, Hermione looked over at the auror who was watching their exchange with amusement.

"Can you give me an hour to track him down?"

"Are the two of you coming back here?" Watching Hermione carefully, Horace carefully schooled his face to keep his emotions masked.

"I'm coming back; I imagine that Harry will insist on being here, also. Why?"

Parvati and Horace looked at each other uncomfortably. Finally Horace shrugged.

"No reason, I suppose. When you come back, we'll brief you in on the operation." Looking Hermione in the eye, he nodded. "And I'm not your godson, so you won't be going in with the capture team."

"I didn't go in with the capture team in Scotland. Team Leader Lupin had everything well in hand by the time I arrived on scene."

Snorting in disbelief, Horace shook his head and rolled his eyes. Seeing that she wasn't going to get anything else from either of them, Hermione looked over to the fireplace in the suite.

"Is that connected to the floo network?"

"Yes, you need to wand verify to activate it, but that'll connect to the outside very handily."

Horace gave a lazy flick of his wand and a fire sprung up in the fireplace, crackling merrily.

Hermione walked over and took a dash of floo powder from the container setting on the mantle. Looking back over her shoulder, she nodded.

"We'll talk about whatever it is that the two of you are trying not to tell me when Harry and I get back." Shaking her head, she tapped the mantle three times with the handle of her wand and tossed the floo powder in the flames. As they turned green, she sighed.

"I can't imagine what you two would think would be worse than finding out she's cheating on Harry." Turning back around, Hermione stated, "The Leaky Cauldron" as she stepped into the green flames and disappeared.

Parvati took her wand and extinguished the flames, effectively sealing the connection. Shaking her head, she sighed.

"I'm not certain I want to be the one to tell her how much of a pervette Firebolt really is."

"Cara doesn't know all of the details, she was sick when she found out the basics of what was going on." Seeing the look in his counterpart's eyes, he nodded.

"I don't know if this is going to be easier with Harry here or not. At least he can keep her from hexing Firebolt out of hand when we go in."

"Think she can find him?"

"She's the only one who can. I know I tried three years ago. Whatever's he's done I couldn't even get a patronus through to him." Shaking his head, Horace looked around the room.

"All right, you lot. Listen up. We've got at least an hour before we're going in. Keep the surveillance and wards up, but take shifts and get something to eat. Anyone fancy a kip, there's a bed in the next room that'll do until show time."

The twirling lights and glimpses of normality resolved themselves into the common room of the Leaky Cauldron. Stepping lightly from the floo, Hermione brushed a bit of ash from her robes as she looked around the room.

Twenty plus years after the Battle of Hogwarts, any member of the Golden Trio still garnered notice in public. Shaking her head, Hermione conceded to herself that after today, the two of them would look back at the hectic days following Harry's defeat of Tom Riddle with fondness compared to the level of attention today's events would create.

Looking around the room, she could see Hannah leaning against the bar, watching her warily. The usual Sunday afternoon crowd was gathered in the Cauldron, with small groups and solitary individuals scattered around the room.

Closing her eyes, Hermione concentrated and reached for the connection that had, it seemed, always existed between Harry and her. Brushing her thoughts lightly against that sense of him she had had since the Tri-Wizard Tournament, she could feel that he was nearby, but there was a strange and persistent bit of interference keeping her from knowing exactly where he was.

Opening her eyes, she glanced around the room once more and then walked over to Hannah's spot at the end of the bar. Smiling, she nodded as she leaned against the bar.

"Cider?" Hannah's smile didn't reach her eyes; she had a look that was clearly worried.

"Pumpkin juice would be better, if you don't mind." Trying to smile at the other witch reassuringly, Hermione waited as Hannah turned and nodded to the wizard behind the bar.

As the two mugs were placed in front of them, Hermione smiled her thanks to the bartender and took a generous sip. Placing the mug back on the bar, Hermione nodded to Hannah and waited.

"You're the only one, you know." Placing her cider back on the bar beside Hermione's mug of pumpkin juice, Hannah made a subtle gesture and Hermione could feel a spell spring up around them.

"It's just a variant of the old 'Notice Me Not' combined with a 'muffliato' that should keep us from garnering any unwanted attention." Smiling sheepishly, Hannah rolled her eyes. "Ginny's come in here dozens of times over the years and Tom and I lied straight to her face."

"Really now. And what makes me so special?" Tilting her head, Hermione glanced around the room to see who was paying them any attention. "I really need to find him, or I wouldn't be here."

"Doesn't matter." Smiling mysteriously, Hannah took another sip. "You're the only one whom I'd let disturb him today. Nev and I decided long ago that if there was ever anything we could do for either of you, we'd do it."

"I'm not asking you to break any confidences, just get a message to him that I need him, and very soon."

"You might as well tell him yourself, you know. He's right here."

"I know he's here, and I'll be hanged if I can figure out how you've hidden him." Shaking her head in admiration, Hermione looked around the room again. "I've been able to pick him out when he was using polyjuice, and I've gotten used to that blasted cloak of his, so this is obviously a new trick."

"It's not mine; Seamus actually came up with it, years ago. Found out the hard way that it works with patronuses." Seeing the look on Hermione's face, she smirked.

"Ginny's mare showed up every year for the first three or four before she got the idea that it wouldn't work. The last time, Horace sent his patronus after him a few years ago. The poor thing spent fifteen minutes chasing its tail around my bar until I was able to send him a message that his patronus was scaring off the afternoon trade."

"Really now? I'd have thought a patronus was almost infallible in that regard." Looking intrigued, Hermione bit her lower lip as she considered things. "I wonder?"

"Yours might work; we'd have to test it sometime. Harry thinks that they get as close as they do because they key on the last place he was before the charm goes into effect."

Looking her longtime friend up and down, Hannah's hand strayed to the necklace hanging around her neck where the transfigured DA medallion hung.

"I know this would work, yours is the only connection he doesn't block."

Shaking her head, Hannah smiled at the look in Hermione's eye.

"You want to know about the charm. It's so outside the box, no wizard or witch would ever trip to it and it only works in certain circumstances."

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Hermione chuckled, wondering their old classmate had come up with.

"Seamus got it from an old muggle movie he saw. It only works if someone was looking for the person being concealed by the spell. If you weren't looking for Harry, you would walk in and notice he was standing there. But if you were looking for him, you'd be convinced you saw someone else."

Eyes going wide, Hermione started chuckling.

"Let me guess, 'These are not the droids you're looking for.'?" Shaking her head as she remembered Seamus' fascination with those movies and science fiction in general, she smiled.

"It's perfect. Anyone actually looking for Harry would see someone else, someone who wasn't Harry but logically fit into the scene, as it were."

"Score one for the muggleborn. Do you want the counter-jinx?"

Tilting her head to the side, Hermione bit her lower lip as she thought. Shaking her head, she smiled and intoned.

"The Force will be with you, always."

As her words hung in the air, she could 'feel' her sense of Harry suddenly tighten. Turning her head to where a nondescript old wizard had been standing, nursing a mug and smoking a pipe, she smiled as her oldest friend was standing there, watching her with a very strange look in his eyes.

Nodding her thanks to Hannah, Hermione waited until she dropped the spells and then walked down the bar to where Harry was standing. Setting her mug of pumpkin juice on the bar beside his, she waited until he nodded before she began.

"It's 'Operation Canary'. Things have gotten … complicated." Looking down, Hermione suddenly understood how Cara felt earlier.

Sliding his arm around her shoulders, Harry held her close and waited for several seconds, seeing where she was going with this. When she didn't continue, he picked up his mug and took a sip.

"Cara and Team Twelve have been walking on eggshells the past three months around both of us. I wondered how long before someone would finally decide it had to be resolved." Shaking his head, he tightened his arm around her. "How bad is it?"

"Almost the worst, maybe. Harry, how did it come to this?" Leaning her head against him, she relaxed a bit as the two of them silently shared the moment. Shaking her head, she stood up and took a step away from him.

"This won't help. The last thing we need right now is for someone to see the two of us together like this."

"All anyone's going to see is two people who belong here, neither one of them being Hermione or Harry if that's who they're looking for. And the 'Notice Me Not' that Hannah added when you walked over here will keep the casual onlooker from noticing us at all." Smiling, Harry nodded his thanks to Hannah as she kept watch from her spot by the bar.

Looking around, Hermione noticed an empty booth in the corner.

"We might as well be comfortable, unless your ritual requires you to stand at the bar, of course?"

Smiling, Harry gallantly offered her his arm as they stepped towards the booth. A bit off the usual traffic flow of the floor, they slid into the booth and sat where they could see the length of the bar, but someone would need to be in front of them to see them clearly. Looking over at her, Harry shrugged.

"How much trouble is Ginny in?"

"How long have you known?" Staring at him, she reached over and gently placed her hand on the back of his, her fingers brushing the almost forgotten scars that proclaimed, "I must not tell lies".

"The affairs started a year or so after Lily was born." Looking away, Harry's voice dropped to a quiet whisper. "She would seize on any reason to rail at me for something, usually something involving work since you were the advocate for my office and we were working together." Shrugging his shoulders, Harry sighed.

"She went back to work covering quidditch, and she started being gone more than she was home."

"And with you being an auror…" Letting the statement hang in the air, Hermione watched him carefully as he grimaced.

"And being an auror, it really was child's play to figure out what she was doing, and with whom." Shaking his head a bit, Harry slumped back into the booth.

"It took me a couple of years to figure out if she was being slightly obvious because she wanted to be caught so we could have a go at fixing things, or she just didn't give a damn. Finally I realized that she really didn't give a damn if I knew, she thought the specter of publicity was what would keep me from making an issue of it."

"Merlin Harry, I never knew. How did you keep something like this quiet?"

Chuckling, Harry looked down at his mug.

"What you mean is 'How did I keep something like this from you?'." Feeling her nod, he shrugged. "It's the only thing I've lied to you about, since the bloody book. I talked to Francis before he retired about who his people used for Occlumency training when you wanted to segregate something but didn't want the other person to know they were being blocked." Shaking his head, Harry finally turned and looked at her.

The pain in his eyes hit her with the force of a hammer blow. Suppressing the urge to reach out and enfold him in one of her hugs, she tightened her grip on his hand.

"I imagine that since his first suggestion was a nonstarter, Francis sent you to Muriel?"

"Well, yes. Since his first suggestion was that I ask you, Francis was fairly taken aback when I blushed like a third year asked to the Yule Ball and told him I needed another suggestion. Though spending eight weeks working with Muriel on this wasn't a picnic either."

"Eight weeks?" Shaking her head in admiration, Hermione sighed. "I spent six bloody months, every other Sunday, in Upper Flagely learning how to set up those mental blocks.

"Well, truth be told, I had a bit of a head start." Seeing the look she gave him, Harry blushed.

"Remember when I finally broke down and we spent that entire weekend in Wales talking about my childhood?"

Seeing her nod and the tears that started trickling down her cheeks, Harry once again felt guilt for having burdened her with that and, paradoxically, deeper guilt and regret for having kept it from her for so long.

"Everything I had buried about growing up on Privet Drive, I had instinctively created places where I could have things that you wouldn't notice, mostly."

"Harry, I always knew there were things about what happened there, before I met you, that it took a long time for you to talk about." Seeing the look in his eyes, she smiled to reassure him.

"It was never a burden; all it did was make me more convinced that Vernon needed to be sent to his own personal corner of Hell, either now or in the next life. But preferably now so I could stand there and cheer."

"Well, Muriel taught me to consciously do what I had unconsciously done, hide things from you." Looking away, Harry closed his eyes. "The things I was too ashamed for you to see."

"And I'll tell you now what I told you twelve years ago. Whenever you're ready to tell me something is the moment I'm ready to hear it." Smiling ruefully, Hermione reached up and brushed Harry's fringe back from the faded scar on his forehead.

"Neither of us owes anyone anything, which is why I hope you can forgive me for what's coming next."


	5. The Sundering of The Fellowship

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** We're back, and we're still at the Leaky Cauldron. JK Rowling and her corporate partners still own all of the rights to the recognizable portions of the Harry Potter universe and I'd like to that this opportunity to thank her for all of the enjoyment she's given the world. No infringements of copyright are intended or have occurred in this exercise of intellectual curiosity. _

_However, I'm not responsible for Hermione's taste in movies, and any references to movies are the property of their respective directors, production companies, and writers._

_And I'd like to thank Boo, the miniature giant space hamster, for being the inspiration for the concept of giant pygmy puffs. Long may the Spelljammer fly between the spheres, and thanks to the folks at TSR (and Wizards of the Coast and Hasbro, I suppose) for Boo and all of the rest of the enjoyment they've provided over the years. _

_Luna so needs a giant space hamster as a familiar._

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><p><strong>Chapter Five – The Sundering of The Fellowship<strong>

Sitting there silently, Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist and let her head rest on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she relaxed and found that center where her emotions could calm themselves. Without opening her eyes, she whispered.

"Neither of us has anything to be ashamed of. Between us, we've raised a wonderful son and are raising five wonderful children. Teddy is as extraordinary a man as you are. James, Albus, and Hugo have the makings of fine young wizards, though I think Hugo has a bit too much of me in him, but all three of them are a credit to their houses and their families. Rose is definitely too much my daughter and Lily is apparently your mum all over again. Neither of us deserves what is happening, but we'll muddle through as we always do."

Harry stiffened and put his hands on hers. Finally realizing what was wrong, what was missing, Harry stared down at the band of pale flesh that was exposed to the air for the first time in since Hermione had said 'I do' to his best mate in the Burrow's backyard sixteen years ago. Turning, he looked at her for several seconds, watching the tears roll down her cheeks.

"What's happened besides Ginny?" Opening her eyes, Hermione stared into Harry's. Blinking twice, she nodded in response to his unasked question.

"Canary caught two in its trap, as luck would have it. It seems that Ronald has been seeing someone for the past fifteen years." Seeing Harry's eyes narrow, his gaze sharpened until it seemed his eyes were emitting some sort of arcane beams, she continued.

"There are two leaks; Operation Canary has turned up both Ronald and Ginevra as being involved with people who have been providing information to The Path."

Hermione could feel the anger and disgust rolling off Harry. Sliding her hand up from his waist, she began rubbing his back gently, trying to calm him.

"Harry, Teddy's team arrested Ronald and the other person in Scotland before I came to London. He's in Caer Sidi, and there's nothing that can be done to or for him, right now. I need for you to relax and focus." Looking deep into his eyes, she smiled. "For me?"

"Who?" Hermione could feel the anger that was directed at the absent member of the 'Golden Trio'.

"Harry, is that important?"

"I want to know who he betrayed you with." Visibly shaken, Harry had released her hand and was flexing his fingers in an almost rhythmic pattern. "And yes, it's important. Along with being a total arse, I want to know exactly how stupid my former mate is."

"Would you trust me if I said it didn't matter?" Trying to project calm and reassurance to her oldest and closest friend, Hermione smiled warily, willing Harry to believe that the individual involved didn't matter.

"It matters to me. I need to know exactly how delusional our friend has gotten by finding out which witch he thinks deserves to be thought of in the same context as you." Eyes smoldering, Harry's face was a grim mask of determination.

"DORA or not, I'll find out in a few hours so you might as well tell me."

Closing her eyes, Hermione cast her mind back across the years, thinking of her long-running feud with Parkinson, starting back in their first year in Potions but becoming irrevocably defined the night she suggested turning Harry over to Tom Riddle. Shaking her head at the irony, she realized that this day had been coming since the two witches had met.

"Harry, I would like to think that Ronald has allowed his unhappiness to be manipulated by someone who knew exactly how to play him. She's been a thorn in our sides…"

"Parkinson? That moron is shagging Pansy 'I shagged my way through Slytherin and liked it' Parkinson?" Staring in disbelief, Harry's jaw had dropped to his chest and his eyes were the size of saucers.

Nodding nervously, Hermione watched as Harry processed the information. Rubbing small circles on his back, she could feel a bit of the tension drain out of him as he thought.

"Harry? Could you say something? Just a clue."

Releasing a long held breath, Harry shook his head once and then looked down. Looking back up, he tilted his head.

"Pansy?" Nodding in resignation, Hermione sighed.

"It appears that some wizards find her attractive. I just never imagined my husband would be one of them."

"Since this proves he's certifiably mental, I suppose I'll have to kill him to keep him from getting off scot free at trial. Bunking with Lockhart for the rest of his life isn't nearly punishment enough." Scowling, Harry shook his head in disgust.

"You can't kill him. He's the father of my children and the godfather and uncle of yours. That would make for very awkward family holidays. 'Dad, tell us again how you transfigured Uncle Ron into a gigantic pygmy puff and then fed him to a colony of Cornish pixies.'"

Sitting back, Hermione smiled at the shocked look on Harry's face.

"I'll admit, I entertained the thought for about five seconds when Cara first told me."

"That's very wicked, even for you." Slumping back into the booth, Harry shook his head in admiration. "Cornish pixies eat pygmy puffs?"

"Sort of works like catnip on their systems. Merlin knows why the world needs drunken Cornish Pixies running around." Feeling that the initial crisis was past, Hermione glanced down at the watch that the Weasley family had given Harry years ago. "We've got half an hour before we need to head to the Savoy."

Muttering under his breath, Harry shook his head and closed his eyes. Placing her hands on his, Hermione concentrated on being calm, hoping this would help as it had so many times in the past.

She could feel Harry's magic as if it were a physical thing, a furnace that had been stoked too high and was straining to be released. Calling to her mind the image of the tree beside Black Lake that they had claimed as 'theirs' years ago when they were students, she visualized the times the two of them had spent studying beneath it's branches, feeding the giant squid and enjoying those rare moments when their lives could pass for 'normal'.

"Harry, for what it's worth, this really isn't our fault. I'm not totally certain of the reasons that they concocted to justify what they've done, but neither of us have ever done anything that warranted this sort of nightmare." Seeing him turn towards her, she could see all of the pain and loss that had marked his life in his eyes. Nodding to him, she smiled a watery smile. "I'm so sorry she's hurt you like this."

"I made my peace with things a couple of years after she started." Seeing the shocked look on his best mate's face, he nodded. "I was just biding my time, waiting for Lily to graduate from school before doing anything about it. I have enough documentation to make it a foregone conclusion when I finally decide to act, but I wanted the children to be old enough to understand before I moved."

Looking away, Hermione blinked as the tears began rolling down her cheeks. "I'm afraid she sees this as my fault. It seems that Ginny's justifying her actions by claiming that there's something going on between the two of us. If it weren't for me..."

Harry's hand had lightly cupped Hermione's chin and turned her face towards him. "If it hadn't been for you, I would have been dead, Tom Riddle would have won and the entire world would be slowly spiraling down into some sort of unimaginable Hell. Or I would have lost my bloody mind and become as sick and twisted as Voldemort and the world would still be spiraling down into some sort of Hell with me at the helm."

Seeing the look in her eyes, Harry slowly shook his head and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "We've been there for each other for twenty eight years. Right now, the last thing we're going to do is let those two win by finally driving us apart. I have no regrets regarding you, other than the fact I haven't been the wizard that you deserve from time to time."

"Harry, I can't help but think that if we weren't like we are, then they wouldn't have done this." Leaning forward she hugged him close and snuggled her face into his shoulder. "It's going to get worse, you know that."

Wrapping his arms around her, Harry held her for several minutes. Feeling her start to relax, he sat back and tipped her face up so he could see her.

"We can sort out the personal issues later, I suppose." Nodding at the determined look in her eye, he smirked. "All right, Madam Director, what does your Chief Auror need to know about 'Operation Canary'?"

Sitting back, Hermione picked up her mug and took a sip. Savoring the cool tartness of the pumpkin juice, she silently cast a spell that wiped away any physical signs of emotional distress from both of them. Nodding to him, she placed the mug back on the table and began.

"I've authorized the arrests of four individuals under various statutes, including DORA." Hearing the subtle change in his breathing as she made that declaration, she shrugged.

"There was no reason to treat this any differently than we had planned when we first envisioned Canary. Keeper and the agent he was involved with, Ms Parkinson, were arrested in Scotland and taken to Caer Sidi after being advised of their rights and of the charges facing them."

"I can imagine that went well. How did Team Leader Lupin handle things?"

"Extremely professionally. He had to step out of character once because Keeper was having a difficult time understanding that this wasn't just some sort of prank because he was sleeping with Ms Parkinson. Ms Parkinson has already offered to make a deal, so I think we'll be able to wrap that part of the operation up with minimal fuss and bother, hopefully Keeper is simply an idiot and not a traitor."

"And if he isn't?" Keeping his voice deceptively calm, Harry watched his best mate carefully for her reaction to the answer he knew was coming.

"Being one of the three living holders of the Order of Merlin, First Class will probably keep him from being sent through the Veil, but since he has nothing else to bargain with, I doubt he'll ever see the outside of Caer Sidi if he has actively betrayed the Ministry."

"And Firebolt?"

Taking her turn to watch her best mate, Hermione turned so she could see Harry clearly.

"Firebolt and Constantine Krum are currently in a suite at the Savoy here in London." Seeing the widening of Harry's eyes she smiled ruefully. "I told you it just keeps getting better and better."

"I'd thought she was shagging that chaser from the French national team, I didn't realize she was still seeing Viktor's younger brother." Shaking his head, Harry leaned back and closed his eyes. "I can imagine that this will make things very pleasant when The Prophet finds out we've arrested two of their reporters under DORA."

The two of them sat in silence for several seconds. Harry looked up at her and saw the look on her face.

"Might as well spill it, you're not telling me something." Snorting, Hermione shook her head.

"Honestly, I don't know. Parv and Horace are antsy about something back at the Savoy, there's more to this story with Firebolt and Krum that they haven't told me. I think they're waiting for you to make an appearance under the impression that you'll keep me from going medieval on Firebolt whenever I find out whatever it is they're so anxious not to tell me."

Arching an eyebrow, Harry stared at his friend for several seconds. Seeing the amused disbelief in his eyes, she smiled defiantly at him.

"It's from a muggle movie..."

"I know what movie it's from. It just never occurred to me that you, of all people, would be a fan."

"I'm not; Lavender and Parvati took me to a showing of it a few years back when they did a new director's cut release for the twentieth anniversary." Shaking her head in disbelief, she smiled sagely. "But it did have a few moments that would seem to be apropos in extreme situations."

"And just how extreme are you planning on getting when we surprise my wife, your friend, with the younger brother of our mutual friend Viktor?" Looking at her cautiously, Harry placed his hand over hers on the table and reached and took a sip of the pumpkin juice in her mug with the other.

"Honestly, Harry, the fact that Horace is worried about my reaction has me worried. Parv has this notion that I'm a bit irrational when it comes to you, but Horace has known us and worked with us for almost twenty years. If he's put off by this, there's something more than just a simple bit of espionage and an affair going on over at the Savoy." Looking down at their hands, Hermione shrugged.

"Viktor wasn't fond of talking about his family, but there's some history that might be relevant." Unconsciously slipping into lecture mode, Hermione closed her eyes and leaned back.

"The family is descended from one of the early rulers in Bulgaria. While they fell from power, there was a branch of the family that was magical and they kept on as the magical advisors to the various muggle rulers of the area." Taking a deep breath, she relaxed as she fell back into her routine.

"Even under the Ottomans, the Krums kept their preeminence within Bulgarian society, being the representatives of the native wizards and witches with the conquerors. After the Grindelwald wars, while the muggle Bulgarians were dismantling their monarchy, the wizarding community patterned themselves after the more western examples and went totally underground during the period following the war as far as the new muggle government was concerned. They're quite a respected family, and they've never had any significant dealings with the Dark until Constantine."

"So Viktor's younger brother is the black sheep of the family?" Looking interested, Harry was watching Hermione to see where she was leading with this.

Snorting in disbelief, Hermione shook her head. "That's an understatement. Whatever it was he did, it was such that not only did it get him expelled from Durmstrang while Karkarov was still there, but he was officially and publicly drummed out of the family." Opening her eyes, she nodded to Harry. "Viktor never would say. All he ever said was that I should warn any witch in England that he was in contact with that he couldn't be trusted, and he should never be allowed near muggle women under any circumstances."

"And you're worried about Ginny's safety?" Sounding a bit incredulous, Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"Not at all, the two of them deserve each other, as far as I'm concerned. However, one time when Viktor was a bit in his cups, he mentioned something about Constantine being enamoured with the ancient history of Bulgaria, especially from the time around the Khanate conquest and later during the early Ottoman conquest."

Seeing that Harry wasn't following, she sighed. "The later one is the same period of time that gave the world Vlad Tepes in neighbouring Walachia."

"Ouch." Grimacing, Harry began to look very uncomfortable.

"Ouch indeed. Between Vlad the Impaler and some of the stories about what happened when the Bulgars first came out of the steppes, Constantine seems to have a very unhealthy fascination with dark magic, blood magic, and other unhealthy practices. I'm afraid Firebolt might have gotten herself in over her head this time."

"We'll know in a bit." Shaking his head, Harry looked down at his watch and studied it for a second. Looking speculatively at his best mate, Harry came to some sort of internal decision and nodded to Hannah at the bar, holding up two fingers.

Hannah came over to their table with three mugs. Smiling faintly, she nodded to the pair as she gently set a pair of mugs on the table. Smiling his thanks, Harry slid one of the mugs in front of Hermione as he picked up his own. Nodding to Hannah, he smiled.

"A toast?"

Hermione watched intently, understanding this was part of whatever ritual Harry had adopted for this date for the past twenty years. Picking up the mug Harry had placed in front of her, she waited.

Holding his mug so he could see the second hand on his watch, Harry waited for several seconds before speaking. "To a life saved, a life reclaimed." Nodding to both witches, Harry downed half the mug of cider and set it gently back on the tabletop.

Following suit, Hermione took a deep pull of the icy cider. Echoing Harry's sentiment, she whispered, "A life saved, a life reclaimed" as she put her mug gently on the table.

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Harry slid out from the table and stood up. Wrapping Hannah up in a hug, he briefly held her while Hermione exited the booth. Nodding to both witches, Harry smiled. "I'll see you at the scene; I'm going to go and enter from the Ministry to make it appear official. Wouldn't do for someone's defense advocate to question why I was coming from the Cauldron to an official operation."

Nodding in agreement, Hermione smiled. "I'll give you a minute or two and then I'll follow on. Since I came here from the scene, I can portkey back."

The two witches watched as Harry casually strolled towards the public floo connection in the Leakey Cauldron. Reaching up, he casually tossed a knut in the brass container on the mantle, and tossed a handful of floo powder into the flames. Disappearing into the green flames, both witches turned to each other as he was transported to the public atrium of the Ministry.

Reaching down into the pocket of her robes, Hermione grasped the coin that would take her back to the place she least wanted to go. Seeing the look in Hannah's eyes, she shook her head.

"He didn't offer, I didn't ask."

"Every year, since the first one after we finished up with school, he's come in. He stands or sits, drinks a bit, but mostly he thinks. Then, at the same time every year, I bring him a mug of cider, he makes that toast, and then he goes back to thinking until he decides to go home after he's eaten a bit of dinner."

Shaking her head, Hermione closed her eyes and thought of the first day of September, how for eight of them she and Harry had been together each time. Shaking her head, she thought about where the train was with their children on it when it suddenly hit her. Opening her eyes, she stared at Hannah. "It couldn't be…" Trailing off, she watched in amazement as her longtime friend nodded.

"It's the moment his life changed, when an eleven year old Hermione Granger opened a compartment door on the Hogwarts Express and forever altered the destiny of one Harry Potter. Upon occasion he also drinks a toast to dear old Trevor, but he hasn't missed this day since the year after the last time you two rode the train to Scotland together."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Hermione closed her eyes and thought back to that day, twenty-eight years ago, when the long strange journey that was the saga of two eleven year olds began. The moment when, for the first time, she felt she knew another human being, and they knew her. A moment that had marked them both, and led them to their current situation.

Hermione pushed the thoughts that were scrambling around to the back of her mind, so she could focus on the matters at hand. Looking up at Hannah, she noticed a strange expression on her face. Quirking an eyebrow at her she waited, as Hannah seemed to come to some sort of decision.

"Hermione," Hannah started cautiously as if searching for the best way to say something, "there isn't anything that Nev and I wouldn't do for the two of you. If there's ever a time when you two need us, or need someplace to be, I hope you'll let us know." Reaching up, she brushed her fingers across the transfigured DA galleon that hung as a pendant around her neck.

"I'm not certain what's going on, but I do know that you and Harry haven't been happy in ages, the two of you haven't been really happy since we left school. I also know that most of us," Hannah nodded significantly at 'us' and tapped her galleon for emphasis, "would do almost anything for the two of you, if you'd ever ask." Shaking her head, she nodded to the half empty mug on the table. "Or, even when you don't ask, we're still here for you."

"Hannah…" Hermione started to say something, but the look in the other witch's eyes made completing the thought unnecessary. Smiling faintly, she nodded towards the stairs that led to the private quarters above the bar. "One or both of us might be taking you up on your offer. Things are about to get very difficult."

"I never really liked either one of them, you know." Seeing the shocked look on Hermione's face, Hannah shrugged. "Ron always made you cry and everyone in my dorm was convinced Ginny inherited her mum's hand at potions when Harry started up with her our sixth year."

Shaking her head, Hermione stared at the blonde witch for several seconds. "I'm not certain what to say."

"Just say you'll do the right thing, this time." Seeing the look on Hermione's face, she shrugged. "I know. It's not that easy, but Auntie told me about how Professor Dumbledore would say that in most situations there was the right thing, and then there was the easy thing. You two took the easy way out, this time get it right."

"Hannah, we're both in the middle of something that's very complicated…" Hermione started when Hannah snorted.

"The two of you saved the world when you were seventeen. Whatever this is, it will be a piece of cake compared to that." Making a shooing motion with her hands, Hannah nodded. "Go, you and Harry sort this out. Since I'm not going to believe a word that The Prophet is going to print, Neville and I will be coming by the house to get the first hand scoop."

Stepping back, Hermione fished the coin from her robes and nodded. "I can't say for certain where I'll be, but my best guess is that one or both of us will be at Grimmauld Place once this all shakes out. If nothing else, Kreacher will be there and he'll know where we are. Harry's never been that fond of Potter Hall, so he might let her stay there, if that's even an option."

Shaking her head, Hermione grimaced. "I think Ginevra and Ronald are both going to be staying in Wales for a bit." Seeing the puzzled look on Hannah's face, she shrugged. "Well, off the coast of Wales to be precise."

Hannah's shocked look was the last thing Hermione saw in the Cauldron before the coin swept her back to the Savoy. Arriving in the sitting room, she looked around to see what had changed in the almost hour she had been gone.


	6. Getting Stomped at The Savoy

**The Phoenix Syndrome  
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><p><em><strong>an –** Everything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe is the property of JK Rowling and her corporate partners. The title of this next chapter alludes to the jazz/big band classic 'Stompin' at the Savoy', which refers to the famed Savoy Ballroom in Harlem, not The Savoy on the Strand in London where the fictional action of this chapter takes place. Not to slight any of the musicians who performed in London over the years, but I think that the house bands for the Savoy Ballroom were just a tad bit better. Which has nothing at all to do with the story._

_Several people have pointed out in reviews that the security detail code names are a bit confusing, at times. For a recap: Seeker = Harry – Chief Auror, Firebolt = Ginevra, Keeper – Ronald, Coronet = Kingsley – Minister of Magic, Nargle = Luna – Deputy Headmistress, and last but not least Dr. Gayle = Hermione – Director MLE. Ronald's and Ginevra's are holdovers from being the spouses of important people. And Minerva, as Headmistress of Hogwarts, is code named Bethoc.  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter Six – Getting Stomped at The Savoy<strong>

The feigned casualness that had been evident during Hermione's first arrival was long gone. A palpable tension had replaced the earlier calm as the witches and wizards of Team Twelve were preparing to do what they did best. Seeing Parvati staring at her, Hermione nodded and wandered over to where her friend was scrying through an ornate mirror.

Smiling ruefully as Parvati passed her hand over the glass, obscuring whatever it was she was watching moments before, Hermione shook her head.

"You're going to have to tell us the details of whatever it is that you're trying so desperately to protect us from."

"Telling and showing are two distinct things, as I seem to remember some overly controlled Advocate droning on about during a refresher lecture at Spook Hall a couple of years ago." Shaking her head, Parvati nodded towards the fireplace in the suite. "I take it you found Seeker?"

"Harry will be along in a moment, so just stop trying to change the subject. If you tell me what it is that's so distressing, I can help you figure out how to break it to Harry." Smiling, albeit thinly, Hermione was beginning to become annoyed with both Parvati and Horace, but she was containing herself because she knew they meant well.

"Actually, what we're doing is stalling until Harry gets here so he can keep you calm." Horace nodded to Hermione as he came up and stood beside Parvati in support. "I just finished talking to my wife and she has a message for you."

"And what does Cara want me to know?" Hermione watched as Horace's eyes darted towards Parvati, trying to pick up some sort of feel for the Unspeakable's thoughts before he answered her.

"Her official recommendation is that you grab Harry as soon as he gets here and get both of your arses to Peregrine House and stay there." Shaking his head, he sighed.

"Cara says the neither of you need to be here when it happens, her advice is to simply seal the door and forget about both of them." Looking puzzled, he shrugged. "Something about handing them a cask of amontillado and then bricking up the door."

"Wouldn't work," Hermione quipped. "Eventually Room Service would break in to change the linens and then they'd escape." Looking pointedly at the two of them, she sighed. "Harry's going to be here in a bit, let's figure out how we're going to tell him what you don't want to tell him."

"Well?" Staring back at the auror Team Leader who towered over both her and Parvati, Hermione struck an aggressive pose. "Horace you've known me for twenty years. This is getting a bit much."

"Hermione…" Looking over at Parvati, Horace shrugged. "It would seem that Firebolt has issues with Seeker, and she's working them out during her little trysts."

"Exactly what does that mean?" Staring at Horace for a couple of seconds, Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, it's not as if I'm some sort of futtering virgin here." Turning to Parvati, who was staring at her in shock, she nodded.

"Honestly, I've been around the block a few times. Exactly what has Molly Weasley's youngest daughter gotten herself up to that has both of you in a tizzy?"

Shaking her head and muttering to herself in a dialect that Hermione didn't immediately recognize, Parvati walked back over to the mirror she had been observing and looked up at Hermione. Nodding, she waited for the other witch to join her. Looking around to see that no one was positioned to see the reflective surface that was currently showing roiling grey clouds, she sighed and moved her wand across the face of the mirror.

As the scene cleared, and a posh, but totally overdone, hotel suite came into view, Hermione's breathing hitched as her heart caught in her throat. In the center of a room decorated primarily in tones of deep red and black, stood a wooden frame, a ghastly parody of St. Andrew's cross. Heavy wooden beams were bolted together in forming an upright 'x', liberally spattered with blood and gore.

Chained to the crux decussata was a male body, with messy raven hair and cruel lash marks on his back and thighs, opening and partially obscuring older scars from injuries decades ago. Without conscious thought, Hermione's wand appeared in her hand and she didn't need to for the injured individual to turn his head to know that the eyes would be emerald green, and there would be a fading scar peaking from beneath the sweat tossed fringe.

One of her oldest friends was standing nearby with a cat-o-nine-tails in her hand, sneering and contemplating her handiwork. Nearly nude, dressed in a leather corset and thigh high boots, Ginny Potter was smiling wickedly at a wizard who was lounging against the back of a davenport, sipping a glass of amber coloured liquid.

As Hermione tensed to turn and disapparate, a pair of hands grabbed her and rotated her in the opposite direction of her intended turn. Her cinnamon eyes locked with the dark black ones of Parvati, as the Unspeakable gripped her tightly, holding her in place by force of will and strength of arm.

"It isn't Harry, that's Gaspar de Montfort."

Tearing her eyes from Parvati's, Hermione's glance was drawn back to the mirror's surface. Icy fingers gripped her heart as she watched Ginny use the cruel whip in her hand to inflict pain and damage upon someone who had the physical appearance of the man the younger witch had idolized all those years ago and had married five months before she had married Ron.

Closing her eyes as blood exploded from the horribly abused back of the substitute for her best friend was ripped open savagely, Hermione became aware that the room had become preternaturally still. Every sense she possessed had suddenly gone into some sort of stress induced overdrive and she could literally hear the others trying not to make a sound.

"de Montfort is a pain junkie, apparently it's not painful enough playing Quidditch for France. He's been their toy for almost three years now from what we've been able to discover."

Horace's calm, matter of fact recitation added to Hermione's growing sense of horror and her need to do something. "Firebolt's always been a deft hand with potions, first they transform him into Seeker, and then Firebolt beats the crap out of him until the two of them can't restrain themselves any longer."

Opening her eyes, Hermione took in a deep breath and shook Parvati's hands from her wrists with surprising ease. Looking around the room, she could see that every back was turned; no one was anywhere they could possibly see what was happening around the desk and mirror. Glancing back at the images on the mirror, she shuddered when Constantine knelt in front of Ginny and began caressing her.

"Blank the sodding mirror now."

Her voice sounded harsh and alien as she spoke. Parvati made a simple gesture, and the roiling clouds returned. Looking from Horace to Parvati, Hermione took three deep breaths, but her body was still trembling with suppressed rage and horror.

"Harry is going to be here shortly, I want this operation ready to roll within ninety seconds of his arrival on scene."

"You heard the Director, ladies. Operation Water Bucket is finally active." Horace smiled grimly as the room exploded into action.

As the aurors around her sprung into action, Hermione shook her head and stared at Horace.

"Water Bucket?"

Chuckling defiantly, Horace nodded as Parvati tried not to laugh. "We're hunting the Wicked Witch of the West, what else do you need?" Seeing a faint smile flicker for a moment on Hermione's face, he was gratified that his boss and friend was able to find something amusing today, so he continued.

"Gwen, you know the drill. Take three or four snaps of the torture setup first before you document the rest of the scene. As soon as you do, verbally release Miggs, she'll cancel the polyjuice on the torture victim and we'll cue the healers standing by next door to pop in and start treatment."

A bemused looking blonde witch with impossibly pale features nodded cheerfully as she hoisted the wizarding camera suspended around her neck.

"Four snaps for souvenirs, suitable for framing as soon as I'm on the scene. Then pictures of the Wicked Witch and her Winged Monkey." Shaking her head, she giggled.

"Someone needs to tell Firebolt that black leather doesn't work with her coloring. She looks like a reject from a goth porn video." Looking up at Hermione, she nodded as she held up her backup rig, a muggle slr camera.

"Don't worry Director, this one's wrackspurt proof."

Sighing, Hermione turned to Parvati who was shaking her head and trying not to laugh. Leaning closer, Parvati whispered, "She's a cousin of Cara and Luna's on Luna's mum's side of the family. She took down a Nosferatu single handedly last month in Leeds, didn't break a sweat or a nail."

As the aurors took up positions around the room, the floo erupted into green flames and Harry Potter, Chief Auror, stepped into the room. Before he could gain his balance, Hermione hit him with a silent Petrificus Totalus, and then used her wand to stabilize him so he remained standing.

Turning and wincing at the horrified looks on the faces of Horace and Parvati, she nodded. "Go time is now. Start the countdown Senior Team Leader." Looking Parvati in the eye, she continued.

"Unspeakable Thomas, you'll assist me in briefing in the Chief Auror after they've begun."

As the augmented team departed the room silently, Hermione turned back to her oldest friend, the unspoken other half of her life. Releasing the spell holding him immobile, she waited a second before releasing the second, allowing him to stand on his own.

"Hermione, just what in the name of the Seven Hells is going on?" Looking around the room, Harry turned back to her and glared. "What was the meaning of that?"

Standing stock still, tears streaming down her cheeks, Hermione gazed at him for several seconds before speaking. Quietly, in a still small voice, she uttered one word.

"Urquhart."

Harry's face registered shock, but he immediately stopped moving forward and focused all of his attention on his oldest friend. Shock, anger, and disbelief forgotten, he nodded and took a deep breath.

"Urquhart indeed. You've never invoked that promise before."

Trying to remain unseen and unnoticed, Parvati looked cautiously from one of her friends to the other. Holding her breath, as if her mere existence would disrupt the delicate balance that the two of them had just achieved, she racked her brain to find some sort of significance to that term that would explain what she had just witnessed.

Speaking calmly, Harry smiled briefly in her direction, but never took his eyes from Hermione's.

"Hello Parv. The night before Hermione's wedding, the two of us met at Urquhart Castle at midnight. Among the things we discussed and promised each other that night, we both accepted that we trusted the other enough to grant a 'time out', if you will, to the other. Regardless of what was occurring, we would stop and listen. That we would respect the other enough to unconditionally trust, all explanations put on hold and just do what needed to be done."

"Harry, I know what they didn't want to tell me, and I wish to Merlin I didn't. She's not the girl you met all of those years ago, she's not the witch who was Matron of Honor at my wedding. I'm not certain who in Niflheim she is, but she's not a friend to anyone we know any longer."

Seeing the disbelief in Harry's eyes, Hermione nodded slowly. "I swear on my magic and the love we have for each other that this is something you need to leave in my hands, for the moment." A brief flash of light encompassed Hermione's wand as the oath was accepted and witnessed by the forces of magic itself.

"What do I need to do?" Looking resigned; Harry stood impassively waiting for direction.

Turning to Parvati, who was staring at her in disbelief, Hermione nodded in response to Parvati's unasked question.

"Parv, I'm going to leave and see if I can make some sense out of what's happening. Would you stay here with Harry and brief him in on the basics of what's been going on?" Seeing the look on her face, Hermione shook her head slightly.

"Just keep him company and answer the basic questions, I'll provide the details once I'm certain everyone's where they need to be."

Turning to Harry, she crossed the room and engulfed him in a hug.

"Harry, you would do this for me, let me do this, please?" Looking up into his eyes, she gazed at him allowing him to look deep into her soul for the answers they both knew were there.

"Will you be in danger?" Seeing the determined shake of her head, Harry relented. "She's not worth it, pack the lot off to Caer Sidi and come back to me."

"Harry, things with Ron are ugly, but we can survive that. This is wrong, something isn't right here. I need to go see, try to figure out what happened with her." Seeing the look on his face, she smiled sadly. "Apparently we chose easy last time, this time we need to do it right."

Turning towards Parvati, Hermione waited until she acknowledged Hermione's wishes. As Parvati turned her attention to Harry, Hermione whispered, "Keep him safe, keep him here."

And with that, she disappeared almost silently.

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><p>Reappearing in a scene from Bosch's vision of Hell, Hermione found herself in the midst of chaos. Where the operation in Scotland had gone textbook perfect, apparently this one had gone pear-shaped rather quickly.<p>

Krum was secured by a pair of aurors and down. The ersatz Harry had been released from his bonds and was behind a davenport, where two of the team were trying to render basic medical aid while dodging the occasional curse. Ginny, on the other hand, was wielding her whip in one hand and a wand in the other, and was in a standoff with Horace and the rest of his team.

"Bring that slag here so we can finish this, or I'll take the entire hotel down with me." Eyes blazing, Ginny snapped the cat-o-nine-tails sending gore splattering around the room.

"Ginny, put the wand and the whip down, there's no point in making this any more difficult than it needs to be." Talking soothingly, Horace's eyes kept scanning the room, trying to account for his team. As his sight flickered over Hermione, he gave a visible start.

"I'm afraid the Director is unavailable for the moment, but I'm certain she can come see you as soon as we get things resolved here."

"Please, she's got you on as short a leash as she does Harry. I doubt she lets you think for yourself. Does your wife know you're sleeping with her best friend and boss?" Seeing the stir of emotions in Horace's eyes, Ginny grinned maniacally. "Wonder how she'll take the news."

Watching her, Hermione focused upon the wand in Ginny's hand. It wasn't Ginny's usual wand; it was longer and looked vaguely familiar. As Hermione motioned for Horace to continue, Ginny began to taunt the auror.

"What's the matter? Can't find the stones to take out one itsy bitsy little quidditch player?" she taunted in a sing-song voice. "Itty-bitty baby aurors come to play and they can't take down a slip of a blood-traitor?"

Staring in horror, Hermione realized that the wand Ginny was carrying was the one that they had taken from the corpse of Bellatrix Lestrange years ago. The voice, the wand, the taunts, all led her to one conclusion.

Stepping forward, Hermione nodded towards Horace as she braced herself for the confrontation. As Horace started to speak, Hermione focused on the identity of Bellatrix and silently disarmed the distracted witch.

Whirling in place, Ginny broke into a leer as she saw who was holding the wand she had been using.

"My husband's faithful slag. I was wondering when I was going to see you today."

"It's been a long time; I wonder exactly how you did it." Stepping closer, Hermione peered intently at the witch standing in front of her. "You had all of us fooled, I'll have to admit." Shaking her head in disbelief, Hermione smiled coldly.

"Did your master know you were planning your own Horcrux?"

Ginny's smile faltered for a second, and Hermione could see the look of confusion on Horace's face over her shoulder from where he stood behind her.

"I have no idea what your blathering about, mudblood. Did you enjoy my little show here?" Glancing lovingly over at the torture device standing in the middle of the room, she smiled and slowly licked her lips. "Itty-bitty baby Potter makes such a wonderful play toy, but I'm certain you know that."

Reaching up to her throat, Hermione's fingers curled around the locket and pendant that hung from the goblin silver chain around her neck. Concentrating on the locket, she allowed a bit of her magic to flow into the jewelry, amplifying her thoughts and sending them winging north to Scotland.

"This ends here and now. Whatever Ginevra's done or not done, your involvement in this travesty ends today."

Laughing, the red-haired witch shook her head. "Silly mudblood. Of course I'm Ginevra." Running her hands down the blood-spattered leather that clung to her body, she smiled seductively. "Who else would I be?"

Looking down at the walnut and dragon-heartstring wand in her hand, Hermione sighed. "I told Harry this bloody stick should have been destroyed after the war." Smiling as she felt the answer to her call for help in the back of her head, she looked up.

"It's been a long time, Trixie. I suppose I'll have to finish the job my mother-in-law started."

"Use any excuse to get me out of the way so you can steal that pathetic, whinging husband of mine you can." Drawing herself up, Ginny/Bellatrix laughed and sneered. "Think this will finally make him love someone as pathetic as you, killing his loving wife in cold blood?"

Before Hermione could answer, a golden flash of flame illuminated the room. Suddenly, sitting on Hermione's shoulder there was a gold and scarlet phoenix, trilling a song of warning and menace. Clutched in one of the phoenix's talons was an ornate bracer that Hermione took with a smile of thanks.

"Fawkes, prompt as always." Inclining her head towards the witch in front of her, Hermione chuckled. "You remember Ginevra, of course."

The phoenix's outraged reaction and warning hiss indicated that his memories were less than pleasant. "Ah, I see you've also noticed Bellatrix squatting here, along with Ginevra."

At Hermione's pronouncement, a collective intake of breath from around the room. From over Ginny/Bellatrix's shoulder, Hermione could see Horace giving signals to his team. Intent on keeping her adversary off balance, Hermione decided to taunt the volatile witch.

"I'll admit, Trixie, I didn't see you as the type to wait quite as long as you did, hiding in the shadows of her mind."

"Stop that!" Glaring, Ginny/Bellatrix snapped the whip again; its sharp crack showering the area with gore and blood. "I killed the last worthless bloodtraitor who called me that, think I'll do any less to a worthless mudblood slag?" Taking a step forward, she stopped in midstride with a shocked and horrified look on her face.

"Didn't see that one coming did you?" Allowing herself to smirk a bit, Hermione watched as panic began to appear in the brown eyes of the witch in front of her. "The immunity you've enjoyed to magic that controls isn't worth a tinker's damn if the caster is aware whom she is casting the hex at. There's a slight difference between taking control of Molly Weasley's youngest and Druella Black's youngest."

Chuckling at the look of loathing on the witch's face, Hermione looked over at Horace and nodded.

"For the record, I'm invoking Article Twelve. As the senior law-enforcement office officially present, myself excluded, please schedule a hearing regarding my use of an Unforgivable as I've just Imperiused Bellatrix Lestrange, whose soul is currently inhabiting and dominating the body of one Ginevra Molly Potter, nee Weasley."

"Director?" Flinching a bit from the look Hermione gave him; Horace shook his head and sighed. "An Article Twelve hearing will be scheduled at the earliest possible moment, provided we survive the next ninety seconds or so."

Nodding grimly, Hermione slowly released the breath she had been holding. If Horace was willing to accept the concept that a Horcrux of Bellatrix Lestrange's had survived all these years, then she might just survive the next few minutes without censure or worse as a result.

Faced with a dilemma that had never happened during the war, a Horcrux in active control of the person carrying it, Hermione's mind raced as she struggled to come up with a solution that would allow for the removal of the Horcrux without allowing the physical rebirth of the generally unlamented daughter of the Ancient and Honorable House of Black.

Suddenly, a thought blossomed in the chaos her mind was enduring. A chance memory of a conversation that Harry had related between himself and Dumbledore to her years ago, one weekend in Wales when the two of them had endeavored to exorcise the memories that plagued both of them from the war, came to mind.

Casting about for any other solution that would allow for the destruction of the Horcrux without destroying the mind it was housed in, Hermione nodded to Horace, noting the malice and hate glittering in the eyes of the witch in front of her who was waiting instructions.

"Horace, I need Parvati and Harry here, as soon as you can make it possible." Seeing the shocked look on the auror's face, she nodded. "Trust me, I actually need Parv more. But if she comes, Harry will also, so the polite thing to do is ask both of them."

Nodding, Horace called forth his patronus. As the bullmastiff appeared, he turned his attention to the massive canine. After a couple of moments, the silver dog 'woofed' once and then loped through the wall.

Within seconds, Harry and Parvati appeared in the room, almost silently. Looking around, Parvati had a hand on Harry's forearm, as if trying to keep him from reacting to the scene around him.

"Harry, I still need your trust. Parv and I are leaving the scene with Ginny; Horace will brief you in on my theory." Turning to her prisoner, Hermione transfigured Ginny/Bellatrix's outfit into a modest set of robes that wouldn't attract undue attention. Staring at the seething witch, Hermione narrowed her eyes and concentrated.

"Trixie, over here. Unspeakable Thomas is going to craft us a portkey and we'll be leaving momentarily."

Seeing the cat-o-nine-tails in her hand, Hermione shook her head. "And drop that ridiculous prop. Auror Jones is correct; you look like a reject from a muggle porn video." Turning to look at the blonde auror who was vainly trying not to smile, she smirked at the younger witch.

"Take that thing and this wand into custody as evidence. And for Merlin's sake, mark them 'To be destroyed after trial' in the log. No one's getting either one back if I can help it."

As the imperioused and possessed witch moved to her side, Hermione smiled coldly. "Just stand still and do what you're told." Taking the bracer she was holding, Hermione snapped it over the left wrist of the possessed witch. As the bracer snapped shut with an audible 'ping', all of the tension left the body of her oldest friend. Looking over to Parvati, who had collected an ashtray from the mantle, she nodded.

"How far are you allowed to craft portkeys into the ninth floor?" Seeing the shocked look on her old dormmate's face, she nodded. "We're going to try an experiment in Spook Hall."

Looking around, Parvati swallowed nervously. "Almost anywhere you could possible need to go." Seeing the look on Hermione's face, she amended. "Well, almost anywhere I think you could possible need to go, without giving myself nightmares, of course."

Nodding brusquely, Hermione held out her hand to Auror Jones.

"I need for you to document that I'm leaving the scene with the prisoner, and that she's wearing the Phoenix Cuff." Watching the younger witch's eyes widen at the sight of the ornate bracer that was on the left wrist of her prisoner, she smiled grimly. "The cuff will bind the spirit that's controlling her, and this should allow me to handle her easier. As Director I've decided that DMLE is temporarily ceding control of this prisoner to the Order. And as Mistress of the Order, I'm accepting custody and I'm going to attempt to reverse the possession of the prisoner before she is taken back into Ministry custody."

"Hermione, I think you're walking a very thin line here." Looking troubled, Horace was shaking his head slightly.

"If she needs to be sorted out, and if she is possessed by a Horcrux of Bellatrix Lestrange she definitely needs to be sorted, someone else can do it." Seeing the look on her face, he amended. "Someone else should do it."

"Any likely candidates?"

Seeing the uncomfortable look on the auror's face, Hermione smiled sadly. "There's only one person who has more experience with horcruxes, and that's 'first-hand' experience. And Harry's not going anywhere near this, are you?" Looking over at Harry, Hermione held her breath for his answer.

Staring at her for several seconds, Harry's eyes locked with Hermione's as she waited. Nodding slowly, Harry looked up at the ageless avian on her shoulder. Nodding to the phoenix, Harry released the breath he was holding.

"Guard her well, old friend. Nothing matters other than her." Seeing the look on Hermione's face, he stared at her with a look that brooked no argument. "Nothing."

Turning to Horace, Harry nodded briskly. "As soon as they're on their way, we'll proceed. Since our backup from the Department of Mysteries…" Harry's thought was cut off as the flames in the suite's fireplace turned green and a blonde witch in midnight blue robes strode into the room.

"It looks as if I'm a bit late for the party." Lavender MacKenzie, nee Brown, Lead Unspeakable smiled as she nodded to her old classmates. "Hermione, you should know better than taking one of mine off on a wild goose chase without getting a backup. Good thing I had a 'feeling' earlier that I should hang around Spook Hall today."

"Hello Lav, Harry was just about to call for a replacement when you ever so conveniently showed up." Nodding, Hermione tried to keep from smiling as her old dormmate rolled her eyes. "Parv and I are just heading back to the Ministry to try a little experiment."

Walking over to Harry, Lavender gently squeezed his arm as she stopped at his side. "Harry, we've simply got to stop meeting like this, though this is a much nicer hotel suite than the last rendezvous we had." Looking around at the gore splattered about and the damage to some of the furnishings, she shook her head.

"You'd think a place that charges this much would have a better housekeeping staff, no?"

"One would think. And I seem to remember that you picked the room, last time, so don't complain to me about the quality of the room service." Chuckling, Harry looked over at Horace and smirked. "Remember the Slovotsky case up in Birmingham?"

"Ah, the one where that insane tosser thought he was the reincarnation of the Ripper?" Shaking his head, Horace shuddered a bit. "Nasty bugger, he cut up a dozen people before we finally caught him."

Looking over at Hermione, he chuckled, "A right bit of irony that was, when he got to Azkaban and found himself in the next cell from the real Ripper, no?"

"Totally not my fault that was an open cell on the day he was sentenced. The Warden at Azkaban had total control over prisoner accommodations. All I did was postpone the sentencing hearing for a few days so we could get more of the victims' relatives there for the sentencing."

Looking a bit distressed, Hermione shrugged unconvincingly.

"Even if we did have to obliviate a couple of them afterwards, we were able to leave them with a sense of closure that the animal that killed their loved ones was dealt with."

Shaking her head at the look in Lavender's eyes, she sighed, "All right, what's the catch?"

"Parv is going to stay here with Harry and company to clean up the loose ends here at the Savoy. I'm your tour guide for what you're planning for our friend there." Looking over at Ginny/Bellatrix for the first time, Lavender grimaced. "I just don't think it's going to accomplish everything you want."

"You know?" Looking a bit apprehensive, Hermione watched as Lavender nodded slowly.

"Will it work?"

"'Will it work?' is a totally different question than 'Will it do what I'm hoping it will?'. You know that." Lavender smiled sadly as she thought about the conversation she had had moments before coming here.

"Only one real way to tell, I suppose."

Pointing her wand at a door leading off the main room, she smiled as a white bathrobe with the hotel's crest embroidered on it sailed towards her. "Need a new one of these, anyway," she remarked as she caught the flying garment and made a lazy pass over the garment with her wand. As the bathrobe began to glow with a faint blue aura, she looked up and smiled.

"Whenever you two are ready?"

Hermione held out her free hand as she kept one on Ginny / Bellatrix's elbow. She could feel Fawkes instinctively flex his talons on her shoulder as she anticipated the journey. Watching Lavender walking towards her, she looked over at Harry.

His eyes bright with emotions, she nodded to him as their eyes locked. Keeping her gaze fixed on him, unable and unwilling to free herself from their grip. Hermione blushed faintly at the depth of emotions she could see. She could feel the plush pile of the fabric beneath her hand, and she grabbed onto the material as Lavender chuckled.

"Next stop, the Ever-Locked Room. Portus."

The room erupted into a swirling rainbow of colors, but the last thing Hermione saw were Harry's eyes as she disappeared.


	7. Beyond the EverLocked Door

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** Thanks to everyone who's been reading this story, I really appreciate it. Of course, as always, all of the recognizable bits of the Harry Potter universe belong to JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners._

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven – Beyond the Ever-Locked Door<strong>

As they reappeared in a nondescript corridor in the Department of Mysteries, all three witches involuntarily looked up as the phoenix riding on Hermione's shoulder began to trill a mournful song.

Before them was a door that was exceedingly unremarkable to the eye. Nothing would lead one to think that this door was the most secure entrance in the Department of Mysteries.

"Ah, home sweet home."

Shaking her head, Lavender watched Hermione carefully as she began to look unsure of herself. Nodding towards the door, she smiled knowingly.

"Lav, how do we get in?"

"I can get in because I work here and have a pass that will allow me access anytime I decide I need it. You, on the other hand…"

Trailing off, Lavender shrugged and chuckled at the look on Hermione's face. Nodding towards

Ginevra/Bellatrix who was quietly standing there, yet glaring at Hermione with a malevolent light in her eyes, she frowned.

"This one, on the other hand, can only be led in by someone worthy to open the door on her own merits, not with a cheat like this." Holding up an ancient iron key, Lavender flipped it up in the air and caught it handily.

"What merits? Lav, what do I need to do?" Biting her lip, Hermione kept glancing from Ginevra to the door and back again. "If you know…"

"What I know won't help you in the least. I know of three, maybe four people that might have a chance of getting through that door on their own merits, and you're one of them. All I can tell you is to remember what you know, and be true to what you feel."

Stepping forward, Lavender cast a simple spell with her off-hand and a hood appeared over Ginny's head. Sealed beneath her chin, there was a silken cord around her neck with a long tail that was in Lavender's hand. Smiling reassuringly, Lavender handed the cord to Hermione.

"The only way you'll be able to get that one in is like this." Looking down at the stiletto leather boots liberally spattered with gore, that still graced her feet, Lavender clucked once and banished the footgear with a simple wave of her hand. The stiletto boots were replaced by a pair of woolen socks, one of which was half off. "That's better."

"Lavender, I still don't understand."

"And you can't. Not until you experience it. Remember what you do know. I know what Albus told Harry about this room, use that."

Wrapping the slender silken cord around her hand, Hermione turned and walked towards the door. Ginny initially resisted, but as soon as Hermione tugged gently on the cord, she followed along.

Reaching the door, Hermione gently placed her hand on the knob. The door that failed to open for Harry so many years ago responded to her touch. Looking over her shoulder towards her friend, Hermione rolled her eyes at the gentle shooing motion that Lavender was making. The sight of the Lead Unspeakable motioning her on as if she were five years old and reluctant to go for her first day of school touched her sense of the absurd and elicited a smile, despite the situation.

As she turned the knob, the door began to open towards her. Brilliant white light came through the door as soon as it was opened, making it impossible to see into the doorway. As Hermione edged the door open, she was squinting with her eyes watering but she could see a rectangle of brilliant white light.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded and started forward. Just as the light engulfed her, she heard Lavender call out, "Say hello to the Guardian for me" with a wistful tone as she passed through the light.

As if the light were a physical force pushing on her, once she was clear of the threshold she felt as if a great pressure was released and she stumbled a bit as she moved forward so they both were clear of the door.

The sound of the door shutting behind them caused Hermione to look back to check on her prisoner. While still standing docilely, Ginny's exposed flesh was covered in goosebumps and sweat was rolling off the witch. The transformation that Hermione had made to her clothing had been reversed by the passage through the portal, and she was standing there dressed in gore-spattered leather; slipshod, hoodwinked, and trembling.

"Deceptions cannot enter here."

Whirling around, Hermione started to raise her wand and stopped.

Stopped, because she immediately recognized the witch that stood before her. Long red hair, emerald green eyes, and a crooked smile, this could only be one witch, even if Hermione hadn't seen the pictures that Harry treasured above all things.

"Lily Potter?" Hermione's voice came out a whisper, but the speaking of that name had a profound effect upon Ginevra/Bellatrix. The cable-tow was almost pulled from Hermione's hand as the witch behind her dropped to her knees, shaking her head from side to side.

"You were expecting the Headmaster?" Eyes twinkling, Lily smirked cheekily at Hermione. "Here in the antechamber to the Ever-Locked Room, there's always an appropriate Guardian when one attempts entrance on her own merits."

"And you just 'happened' to be on tap for today?"

Laughing, Lily's eyes twinkled with mischief and glee. "You don't believe that, and you know it. This day was years in the making; long overdue due to the best efforts of two of the most stubborn individuals it's ever been my misfortune to watch. Your grandmother Jane would have done just as well, though I claimed the right."

"Nana Jane?"

"A very determined woman, and more than just a wee bit put-out with her granddaughter. " Looking past Hermione to where Ginevra/Bellatrix was cowering behind her, Lily clucked her tongue.

"I'm not certain which of you I'm less happy to see, but the fact that you're both here in one person is just wrong, in and of itself. Both of you have a great deal to answer for."

"Can you help me?"

Recapturing Lily's attention, Hermione took a step towards her. While the witch in front of her still had the physical appearance of the young woman who had died that night all of those years ago, Hermione had no illusions about which one of the two had the experience here, which one was in charge.

"I need to help Ginevra, free her from the influence and control of Bellatrix so she can try to reclaim her life."

"Do you now?"

Turning her attention back to Hermione, Lily lazily waved her hand and a couple of overstuffed chairs that would not have been out of place in the Gryffindor common room during either witch's time at Hogwarts appeared between them.

"Have a seat; I can see this is going to take a bit longer than I thought."

Tugging gently on the cord connecting her to Ginny/Bellatrix, Hermione frowned in exasperation as she refused to move, kept swinging her head back and forth. Looking over at Lily, who was seating herself with an amused look on her face, Hermione rolled her eyes and cast a simple enchantment lengthening the cord so that she could be seated and still remain in control of her prisoner.

Walking over, she seated herself and tried to relax as the other witch was watching her carefully. In all of the moments when she had wondered about having the opportunity to meet Harry's parents if circumstances had been different, the current situation had never come close to being anything she would have imagined.

"Do you?"

Breaking the silence, Lily leaned forward and gave Hermione a careful, evaluating look. Seeing the confusion on her face, she sighed.

"Do you really think you have to give this one the chance to reclaim her life? Her place in my son's life?"

"Of course. This isn't her." Gesturing towards the witch on her knees dressed in leather fetishwear and spattered with blood and gore, she paled a bit but continued.

"For Harry's sake, if nothing else, I need to see he has the chance to make a proper choice about how to go forward."

"I see. So you're willing to close your eyes again and walk away from Harry, leaving him in the hands of this witch."

"She's his wife. And this isn't her; this isn't the Ginny we've both known for so long."

"Do tell. So this isn't who she is. The things she was a part of before and during the war aren't her responsibility? The things she's done since my granddaughter was born have nothing to do with her, correct?"

"Correct."

Trying to sound assured that what she was saying was the pure, unvarnished truth, Hermione found herself trying to keep a bit of disbelief from creeping into her voice. Much to her surprise.

"That's tripe and you know it."

Sitting back, Hermione glanced over at the witch who was kneeling on the floor. Fitting the things that Harry had told her into the things that she herself had seen over the years into the public image that Ginevra had always been very careful to present, something didn't add up. Turning her attention back to the other ginger-haired witch in the room, she sighed.

"There's no way to know, from my perspective. I'd like to think that Harry hadn't given his heart to someone like that. But people change, over the years." Trying to keep the bitterness from her voice, Hermione could feel the emotional tidal waves from the events of the last several hours battering against her self-control.

"She's the same manipulative, amoral, self-centered little slitch today that she was when she started slipping a love potion into Harry's juice the week before you went back to school for your sixth year." Seeing the shocked look on Hermione's face, Lily held up her hand to forestall any interruptions and rolled on.

"She was going to have 'The Boy Who Lived' and she certainly wasn't going to let any muggleborn swot stand in her way, especially not with Molly and Albus egging her on." Eyes flashing, Lily threw a look at the hoodwinked witch that caused her to flinch, even without being able to see it.

"Ginevra, I'm talking about you. You did just fine on your own until two years ago when you let your little friend out to play, isn't that right?"

Visibly struggling to speak, Ginny strained to respond. Bits of words were forced out, but something was keeping the witch from answering the question posed by Lily.

"Is Bellatrix fighting her for control?"

"She's finding out the hard way that she can't consciously lie in here."

Even with her face hidden, the struggle Ginny was going through was very evident. Whatever it was she was trying to say in response to Lily's question, apparently it wasn't going to come out and something else was struggling to be said.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Lily twisted her hand in a curious pattern and Ginny's struggles ceased. Seeing the look in Hermione's eyes, she chuckled. "She wouldn't tell the truth; she's probably convinced herself that the lie was true, so I removed the requirement for her to answer that question."

"Requirement?"

"The 'Guardian' can require any candidate to answer three questions before they move forward. While Ginevra certainly isn't a candidate to pass beyond in the normal sense, I can still exercise that authority with her."

"And what would you have me answer?" Suddenly seeing the peril that accompanied this situation, Hermione began to wonder exactly what Harry's mother would want of her.

"Afraid of me discovering some deep dark hidden secret? Worried that I'll find out you said 'yes' to your Bulgarian bon-bon because you wanted Harry to react?"

"It wasn't totally like that…"

Trailing off, images from her fourth-year began flashing through her mind. Her disappointment that Harry never thought of asking her, her accepting Viktor's invitation to see if that would show Harry that she was someone worth noticing. How Harry's look when he saw her coming towards him for the first time that night had taken her breath away and touched her deeply, somewhere no other man had ever touched before or since. How she had railed at Ronald after the dance, but it was really Harry she had wanted to grab and tell to wake up.

"It was totally like that, for all the good it did me." Blushing, she looked down at her hands. "I couldn't think of what else to do."

"Asking Harry to the dance never occurred to you?"

"Of course it did. Witches don't ask wizards to the Yule Ball, regardless of how much they want too." Looking guilty, Hermione thought back at all of the wasted chances over the years while they were in school, chances that she had squandered because she wanted Harry to make the first move.

"How much did you know about Harry's childhood?" Innocently asked, Hermione could feel a power to Lily's question that far belied its casual manner of asking.

"In school I didn't 'know' anything but what Harry wanted known. I knew things weren't right, that things were probably very bad, very wrong there in Surrey. The night we rescued him, the things I saw there, confirmed every nightmare, every misgiving I'd ever had."

Tears forming in her eyes, Hermione thought back to the painful confessions that Harry had made to her after the war, and the only lies she had ever told to him when she pretended that she had never suspected the extent of the things that had gone on before he came to Hogwarts.

"Child, you helped to make the unbearable bearable for him," Lily responded quietly. "More than anyone else, you were the one who stood by him, supported him, even when he was being an incredible arse …"

"Yes, yes. All hail the swot. The scheming deceitful bitch who wormed her way into Harry's life and poisoned him against every other witch."

Drawing herself up defiantly, or as defiant as one could be on one's knees, blindfolded and held on a tether, Ginny glared in the direction of the two witches.

"I should have been the one he turned to, the one he loved. The one that stood with him to share the glories that were his by right. Instead you played on his sympathies, bound him with his pity for someone as pathetic and ordinary as you. You weakened him with your muggle ways; your constant reminding him that he owed you for pathetically following him around, hoping for a scrap of his time, his regard."

Ginny's words hammered into Hermione as they played on every fear, every insecurity, she had experienced regarding Harry over the years. Had she limited him? Was she good enough for someone like Harry? How could she possibly stand beside 'The Boy…

"Not again. Never again. Come what come may, I'll not abandon him again. By all that's Holy, we'll make the decisions this time. Not you, your potions, your mother, or Albus sodding Dumbledore is going to take that from us this time. We may decide to walk away from it, but we will decide this time."

Having risen from her chair, Hermione towered over Ginny as she knelt on the floor. Glaring daggers at the younger witch, and her quite mad mental hitchhiker, Hermione wrapped the cable-tow around her hand to shorten the lead, and then turned quite abruptly to face the other ginger witch across the room.

"Ask what you will, I'll hazard your trial to make up for the fact that I betrayed you son."

Smiling coolly, Lily's eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the change in the Hermione. "And just how did you betray my son?"

"Twice I betrayed him. The first time by not noticing what happened out sixth year, not seeing the changes in both of us and realizing it for what it was. I was afraid of losing him, afraid that Death would take him from me so I allowed him to withdraw into her arms instead of fighting for him. I used that poxy book as an excuse, but it was my fear, my inadequacy that I allowed to come between us. If I would have thought…" Breaking off, Hermione blinked tears from her eyes as the bitterness from that year began to well up in her.

"If I would have thought, I would have recognized what was happening and reversed the potion's influence so he could have chosen between us honestly. And the second time was after the war. I refused to allow us to have a choice; I blindly went along with the expectations of everyone around us and allowed both of us to settle. We might have been pants as a couple, but we should have been the ones to decide that."

Arching an eyebrow, Lily stared at her for a moment before turning her attention to the witch kneeling behind her.

"Ginevra, she's going to allow him to choose, what say you to that?"

"Please. There's no choice and she knows it. His pity…"

Breaking off, Ginny's breathing became labored as she tried to force the words past some constriction in her throat. Shaking her head, Lily chuckled as she watched the younger witch attempt to speak.

"I warned you, you cannot lie here. And the punishment only gets more severe, so I suggest if you aren't going to be honest with us, you should pass." Making the gesture again, Ginny's struggles ceased. "We'll consider that one answered."

Turning her attention back to Hermione, Lily coolly appraised her again. Smiling to herself, she blinked and then continued.

"What are you going to do about Ronald, your husband?"

Lily's question sent Hermione's thoughts into a spin. Closing her eyes, she thought back over her relationship with Ron, before he essentially withdrew from their marriage after his career as an auror was cut short after an incident that left him unable to fully return to the field as an auror but unwilling to accept an administrative position within the corps or elsewhere in the Ministry.

Thinking back over how things had stood between them at the end of the war, and how the dynamic between the 'Golden Trio' had altered over the years, she saw that she was as central to what happened as he was.

"I owe him an apology and penance for allowing myself to marry him when he wasn't my true love. Though I did love him, I was never 'in love' with him and I settled and did him a disservice. Not wanting to hurt him, I ended up hurting him horribly."

Pausing for a second, Hermione looked down and half turned to glance at the kneeling witch behind her. Unable to see her face, Hermione could read the tension and stress she was under as Ginny realized her fate was tied to Hermione's success or failure. Turning back to Lily, she smiled blandly and continued.

"While he's responsible for the choices he made, I'm going to take a leave of absence from the Department so I can be free to testify on his behalf when it comes to the sentencing phase of things. I don't know the extent of his culpability in what went on, but the Ron I came to know and respect years ago might cheat on his wife if she were an annoying enough shrew, but he'd never knowingly cooperate with those terrorists, even to hurt me.

"I don't hold him blameless in this, but I intend to ask no forfeit for what has happened when the time comes to dissolve our marriage. Hopefully we can both accept and forgive the other, return to the friendship we had before we tried to be something we weren't."

"I see." Looking thoughtful, Lily glanced past Hermione to where Ginevra was kneeling behind her. Shaking her head at the young witches' attempts to speak, she waved her hand again and the bound witch's struggles subsided.

"Third time pays the bill, as my da used to say." Pausing for a second, Lily's eyes caught Hermione's and held them.

An incredible sense of déjà-vu came over Hermione as those emerald green eyes caught her up. So similar to Harry's, but different in that there were depths there that no living mortal could achieve. Helpless to break free, and unwilling to, Hermione could feel that the other witch was peering down into her soul.

Blinking, Lily released Hermione and smiled as she waited for the other witch to collect herself. When she saw that Hermione was ready, Lily asked her final question.

"That Night," she began, and there was no doubt in Hermione's mind what night she was refereeing to, "would you?"

"Mine is the same answer as you gave 'That Night'. If I had been there, without a hesitation, not a second thought," Hermione replied.

Both witches blinked tears from their eyes and smiled. Lily gestured graciously towards the door on the other side of the room.

"The door awaits your hand. What's behind the door will do what it does. Whether it's what you were hoping for, I cannot say." Smiling sadly, Lily stood and strode over to where Hermione was standing.

Wrapping her arms around her, she hugged her tightly. Unlike the hugs of Molly Weasley, which were often confining and restricting, this one was supportive and conveyed many different levels with the simple gesture.

As Hermione returned the hug, she whispered, "I'll remind him he's loved and cared for. By both of us."

"You two are getting a bit of a late start, but be happy together," Lily whispered in return. "James and I have been waiting for this, but you two find your own level, your own path."

Stepping back, Lily held her at arm's length and looked at her for a long moment. Stepping forward, she placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead. "Once things settle down, give Harry a kiss for me."

Stepping back, Hermione wrapped the silken cord around her hand until she was standing beside Ginevra/Bellatrix. Looking down at the waiting witch, she sighed and shook her head.

"All right, whichever one of you is in charge for now, stand up."

Watching as Ginevra/Bellatrix struggled to her feet, Hermione wrapped the cord again, taking up the slack created when she stood. A gentle tug was all she needed to start her prisoner towards the door.

As they crossed the room, Hermione could feel Lily's gaze on them. Pausing just shy of the door, she turned and smiled at her.

"Before I forget myself totally, Lavender told me to tell you 'hello'." Looking quizzically at Lily, Hermione arched an eyebrow as she saw the smirk on the other witch's face.

"I'll pass the word along to Colin." Seeing the shocked look on Hermione's face, Lily rolled her eyes. "There's more to Lavender than most people think, even back then. You, of all people should know that. Colin threw himself in front of a spell that was aimed at her back that night. That's how she was injured by Greyback, avenging Colin's death. She never knew how he really felt until the moment he died."

"She said she had the right…"

"Aye, as the Lead Unspeakable, she has the right to pass through here. Doesn't mean that the Powers won't assign her an appropriate Guardian to ease the burden on her soul. The two of them complement each other, even separated by his death, and she draws comfort and strength from talking with him, from time to time."

"And Colin?"

"Doesn't begrudge her the comfort and love she and her Canadian auror have for each other." Pausing for a moment and thinking about the foreign born wizard who had filled the hole in Lavender's heart, a Canadian born in the Maritimes who topped six six, Lily smirked. "Though that certainly doesn't keep Colin from teasing her about 'the long and the short of it'."

Smiling ruefully, Hermione took one last look over her shoulder at the mother of her oldest friend, the mother of the wizard who had held her heart since she was twelve. Lily Potter, eyes twinkling in a manner that Albus could only have dreamed of, made a shooing motion with her hand, giving her a flashback to both what Lavender had done minutes before and to Hugo's first day of primary school when she had done the same to get him to take those last few steps into the building.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione tugged on the tether and stepped up to the door in the opposite wall that had appeared when Lily had given her blessing to her. Placing her hand on the simple wooden latch, Hermione lifted the latch and pulled the door towards her. The impression of a large circular room, dimly lit struck her as she stepped across the threshold.

As her foot touched the earthen floor beyond, her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Oh my God!"


	8. Elaine is Out, Please Leave a Message

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

_**a/n –** Once again, everything recognizable from the world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. This is a work of fanfiction and written purely for the entertainment of myself and those readers who enjoy it._

_Also, no slight is intended towards anyone's beliefs by anything in this chapter. There are a myriad of views of the significance of the cup that has come to be known as the Holy Grail, and what is presented here is relatively mainstream, influenced by my perceptions of Hermione's view of things._

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight – Elaine is Out, Please Leave a Message<strong>

The first thing that struck Hermione was the feeling of incredible age about the room she found herself in. As she took a step further in, and she felt Ginevra/Bellatrix enter behind her she heard the door close.

Resisting the urge to look behind, she instinctively 'knew' that the trip they had just taken was a one way journey. Looking around the dimly lit room, all of the illumination she could see was coming from a hearth fire burning in a small brick lined alcove in the wall of the circular room. The cauldron bubbling merrily over the fire gave off the scent of stew rather than a potions mixture, and gave a feeling of 'home' to the room.

But her attention was drawn inexorably back to the wooden chalice that was sitting on what appeared to be a wooden stump of some dark stained wood sitting in the middle of the earthen floor. Plainly decorated, the ancient drinking vessel sat waiting on the flat wooden surface as if it were merely a cup waiting for someone to use it to quench their thirst.

Except for the power that was radiating from the cup, power that threatened to overwhelm everything in the room with its presence. Power that had transformed the world once upon a time.

Hermione's reverie while examining the cup was broken by a pitiful wail coming from behind her. Finally turning around she saw Ginevra / Bellatrix writhing on the ground in great distress.

"Please, take it away," she whimpered piteously. "It burns, it burns."

Eyes widening slightly, Hermione resisted the urge to snort in disbelief as an image of a scene in a movie she had seen with Harry years ago came to mind. Resisting the urge to mutter 'my Precious', Hermione knelt down and placed her hand on the engraved goblin-silver cuff that surrounded the other witch's wrist. As soon as her hand touched the Phoenix Cuff, Ginevra / Bellatrix calmed.

"You know what's in the room, don't you," Hermione asked in a whisper. Seeing that Ginevra / Bellatrix nodded, Hermione exhaled and began.

"All three of us will be judged here," she began in a quiet, matter of face voice. Not entirely certain if she was explaining what was about to take place for her own benefit or that of her prisoner, Hermione plunged ahead.

"For all of his faults, Albus Dumbledore was right about how to destroy your Master, Trixie," she continued. Wrapping her hand around the bracer, Hermione stood and drew her prisoner to her feet. Seeing that the possessed witch was swaying unsteadily in the flickering light, Hermione conjured a cushion on the floor in front of her and guided her slowly down to her knees.

Turning her attention back to the cup waiting patiently in the center of the room, Hermione sought to still her racing thoughts. Retreating back to the both the faith of her childhood and her love of Arthurian tales as a young girl, she tried to wrap her mind around the concept of the artifact in front of her.

At its simplest, the Grail was a symbol of the Divine reaching out to the mortal world. An ordinary object that was made extraordinary by circumstances, it represented hope and salvation.

As a mystical and historical artifact, it was the embodiment of Divine grace and renewal in several traditions. A thousand legends and tales swirled around the plain looking chalice sitting there, the imaginations of generations had been captured by the thought of the cup of Christ at the Last Supper. And thousands had taken up the quest, both literally and figuratively, over the millennia in search for the meaning of the holy object.

And here, looking deceptively innocent and harmless to the naked eye, Hermione could see that the humble cup had been transformed in the two thousand years from an ordinary wooden drinking vessel to something more. Representing the love and sacrifice required for the redemption of mankind, the pure love and power radiating from the Grail gave it a presence beyond anything she had ever experienced.

As she focused upon the cup, Hermione realized the truth of the trial she had been given. While the power and love embodied by this artifact was great, it would avail her for nothing in her quest for an answer to her own dilemma. While she couldn't hope to measure up to the standard presented to her, her love for Harry would stand or fall on its own merits, dependent upon their ability to come to terms with the love they had had for each other for so long. The obstacles and problems they had allowed to come between them were things they would be forced to face, together.

Their children, their friends, their families were what mattered. The mutterings of people who were only too happy to see them fail were of no consequence in the long run, as were the whispers of the press. They would wait until they were free, but they would decide their own fates.

Turning her head slightly, Hermione gazed at the trembling form of Ginevra and sighed. Conflicted as she tried to reconcile the memories of the shy young witch she remembered with the changes she had gone through, Hermione decided that Ginevra would have to make her own way in the world.

Whether or not she was responsible for the obsession she had with Harry, Ginevra was responsible for the choices she had made and the actions she had taken. From what Lily had said, Ginevra knew of the actions of her mother and willingly participated in feeding potions to both her and Harry.

Her mental hitchhiker, however, was a different story.

Turning to face the kneeling witch fully, Hermione silently banished the hood and took a deep breath as Ginevra / Bellatrix recoiled from the light emanating from the cup. Reaching over Hermione stretched out her off hand until the tips of her fingers barely came in contact with the Grail.

"Bellatrix Circe Lestrange, nee Black, I abjure you from this mortal shell you have occupied. You were lawfully convicted of the crimes you committed against the laws of both man and God. You betrayed your magic, your family, and your honor by your service to the wizard Tom Marvolo Riddle who styled himself as Lord Voldemort. I banish you from this mortal realm, sending you forth to the outermost darkness to the wailing of the damned and the gnashing of teeth to await the judgment of souls and the ending of time."

Bending down, Hermione tapped the Phoenix Cuff with the tip of her wand and it snapped open with an audible ping and fell to the floor. As the magic of the ancient device released its hold on Ginevra, the magic that held Bellatrix's soul fragment and consciousness captive inside the body she was residing in, Hermione straightened up and declaimed in a ringing voice.

"Be gone from this form that is not yours. Your earthly shell is no more and you have no place in the lands of the living. Go forth to the outermost darkness and await the judgment of the Creator of All for the sins you have committed and the crimes you have been convicted of. By the laws of God, mankind, and magic I cast thee forth."

A bright light pulsed from the Grail, as an unearthly shriek of pain and loss came from the throat of the kneeling witch. A faint, shadowy form surrounded Ginevra for a moment before the light pulsed again and the shadow was dispersed, and Ginevra collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

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><p><strong>an2 –** The title refers to Elaine of Corbenic, also known as Elaine the Grail Bearer, from Arthurian legend.


	9. Hell Hath No Fury – Etcetera, Etcetera,

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** Once again, I find myself in the position of not being the owner, in any way, shape, or form, of the Harry Potter universe and its associated properties. They still belong to JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners._

_And now for a bit of girl talk before they head back to London after their little adventure._

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine – Hell Hath No Fury – Etcetera, Etcetera, Etcetera<strong>

The light from the Grail pulsed once more, flooding the room with a light that seemed brighter than anything Hermione had ever experienced before lapsing back into quiescence. Reminding Hermione of the Goblet of Fire after it had delivered Harry's name up in that ridiculous tournament all those years ago, she smiled at the irony of the cup that had launched a thousand quests appeared to be nothing more than a simple drinking vessel of humble origin.

A groan from the floor broke her from her reverie, and Hermione turned her attention back to Ginny, who was moving fitfully on the earthen floor.

Hermione reached out her hand to help the struggling witch to her feet when she was surprised by the fact that Ginevra swiped at her, her nails like talons scratching the back of her hand, as she rolled away from the proffered help.

Shaking her hand, Hermione pulled back and cast a pair of wandless healing charms, one to disinfect the scratches since she refused to even speculate about the things that the ginger witch's hands had been doing recently, and the other to heal the scratches and dispel the oozing blood.

"All right then, haul yourself upright so we can get out of here and I can turn you over to Team Twelve and get this bloody day over with," Hermione snapped in exasperation. Seeing that Ginevra was simply sitting on the floor, leaning back on her hands, Hermione rolled her eyes. Resisting the urge to snicker at the memories of seeing petulant toddlers defying their mums by sitting in the middle of the aisle of a Sainsbury's when she was growing up in Oxford; she simply pointed her wand at her prisoner.

"After everything else today, unless you're on your feet before I quit talking, I'll simply stun you, wrap you up in industrial strength Christmas wrap, put a bow on the top of your head and deliver you myself to Caer Sidi as an early present for the gaoler."

"Harry's mine, I'm not giving him up," Ginny whined petulantly. "He's always been mine."

Staring at the younger witch in disbelief, Hermione blinked a couple of times in amazement before opening her mouth to respond. Not finding anything she could possibly say in response to that, she shut her mouth and blinked again before starting.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley …"

"It's Potter, you slag. I'm the Potter now, you're the Weasley," Ginny replied, colour returning to her cheeks as she sat up straighter. "And just where the Hell is my wand?"

"Your wand? Most likely in a drawer at Potter Hall where it's being collected as evidence as we speak. The wand you were carrying, the one that belonged to Bellatrix, is safely on its way to London to be catalogued before being processed as evidence in the case against you," Hermione began. Watching Ginny carefully, Hermione gave back a half step to put her just outside the range she estimated Ginny could strike if she decided to pivot and lash out at her with a well timed kick.

"And you're correct Ginevra, for the moment you're still legally a Potter, which is the name you're going to be arrested under."

"You can't arrest me for cuckolding your paramour," Ginny shot back as she struggled to her feet. "Harry will ignore this as he's ignored everything else so you might as well get your knickers unknotted."

"For the love of Heaven, Ginevra, this isn't about you slutting around with every washed up Quidditch player in Europe," Hermione snarled back as she cast a spell which bound her prisoner's hands up behind her back with several lengths of braided acromentula silk rope that would have held Hagrid if needed.

"You're being arrested because either you're totally clueless and let Constantine rifle through the files at Potter Hall and Grimmauld Place while the two of you were going at it over the last few years, or you're actually deranged enough to think that being Harry's soon-to-be ex-wife will protect you from being charged with conspiring to help those fanatics in the Order of the Path. Either way, I'm taking you back to London and then you'll be taken to Caer Sidi to start the process."

Spinning in place, Ginny petulantly stomped her foot and glared at Hermione. "You'll say anything to try to get Harry away from me. He'll forgive me like he always does. Like he has for the past decade."

"He hasn't forgiven you, you stupid cow, he's ignored you," Hermione fired back as she looked around the room to see if she could find anything to assist her. Seeing a pair of iron tongs setting next to the hearth, she summoned them to her and then transfigured them into a set of shackles. The heavy meteoric iron resisted her attempt, for a moment, but then resolved ifself into a set of shackles with s six inch length of chain between them.

Using her magic to affix them to Ginny's ankles without coming within arm's reach of the irate witch, Hermione smiled at the scowl on her face.

"A bit different when the restraints are on the other foot, eh," Hermione snarked as she moved behind Ginny to grasp the ends of the rope dangling from her wrists and arms that were done up behind her back. Looking around for a moment, Hermione spied the Phoenix cuff on the floor and wandlessly summoned it to her hand.

Concentrating on the small vestry room in Melrose Abbey that the Order maintained, she used the power granted her as the current Mistress of the Order of the Phoenix and banished the arcane item back to the hidden cabinet that held it in the ancient Scottish kirk.

Looking around, Hermione located the simple wooden door that seemed to lead out from where they were and wrapped the end of the silk ropes around her off hand, giving them a gentle tug to get her prisoner's attention.

"We're leaving. As soon as we get outside I'll transport you back to London," Hermione stated in a matter of fact voice. Seeing that Ginny was taking a deep breath to launch another tirade, she sighed tiredly.

"Ginevra, it's been a long day. One more word and I'll gag you for the trip home."

"You wouldn't ... mmph"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the look on Ginny's face when a ball-gag suddenly appeared in her mouth, tightly bound around her head by a pair of very thick leather straps. Resisting the urge to be a told you so, Hermione just tugged on the rope and started heading for the door.

Reaching the door, Hermione simply checked to see that the door wasn't locked before lifting the simple wooden latch and letting the door swing out.

As the autumn sunshine was slanting through the door, Hermione could see the grassy ground sloping away from the doorway. From where she was, she could see gentle terraces heading down towards a grassy area with a gentle stream meandering through it. Recognizing the scene before her from a couple of solitary pilgrimages made when she was younger, Hermione pulled Ginny in front of her and forced the reluctant witch through the door and onto the grassy slope.

As the door swung shut behind her, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder to confirm that no trace of the wooden door that she had just passed through remained. Since she was confident that if anyone had been looking, they would be wondering at the two women who appeared out of thin air on the side of Glastonbury Tor, she quickly started .

Knowing from her earlier trips here that there were ancient wards surrounding both the Tor itself and the ruins of the kirk on its summit, she prepared to chivy her prisoner down the hill to where they could portkey out unnoticed, she was interrupted casting a couple of industrial grade notice me not charms by the appearance of a stag patronus which surprised them both sending Ginny to the ground.

A not very amused stag patronus who glared menacingly at the prone witch on the ground before beginning to speak.

"Where the Hell did you disappear to," Prongs began without any preamble as he looked back up at Hermione. "It's bad enough you dropped off the radar about five minutes after you and Lav arrived in the Department of Mysteries, but ten minutes ago every alarm at the Ministry started screaming blue murder when a wolverine patronus suddenly appeared in the Death Chamber and then proceeded to throw itself though the Veil, disappearing with a bang and a flash of light." Taking a deep breath, the silver stag looked up and fixed Hermione with both of its emerald green eyes.

"And then you just casually reappear, and from what I can tell, you're in Somerset." Pausing for a moment, Hermione could envision Harry running a hand through his hair in frustration as he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself before continuing.

"If you've still got a prisoner, bring her to London so we can get this over with. If you dropped her down a sinkhole or she's buried beneath a fairy mound, just come back and we'll figure out how to square the parchmentwork once you're safe."

As the stag stared at her expectantly, Hermione rolled her eyes. Seeing the 'this isn't funny' look in his eyes, she sighed.

"All right Prongs, I'm on my way home." Seeing that he wasn't mollified, and pawing the ground in front of him in an agitated manner, Hermione decided to ignore the fact that the patronus was leaving marks on the ground and nodded.

"Message begins. Harry, I'm in Somerset, watching the sun set behind Saint Michael's. Three went out, two coming back. If I had to hazard a guess, your patronus event was the result of my casting Bellatrix out. I'll bring my prisoner home to the ready suite; no way am I going to return this one to the scene of the crime. Tell Horace we'll be there in five or ten, it's a hike to the edge of the wards and I've got Firebolt on a short leash."

Pausing for a moment, Hermione looked back over her shoulder, and up the terraced slope of the tor. Seeing the remains of Saint Michael's looming over her, she could still feel the faint presence of Grail as she sighed in resignation. While not a prayer, a quick appeal to Michael in his role as defender of the afflicted on Ginevra's behalf was thought before she returned her attention back to Prongs.

"Firebolt's still raving; I'll have to unrestrain her for the formal arrest when we get back. I know there are restrictions, but see if we can get that mind healer Poppy knew in Oslo vetted through. That might help." Pausing for a moment as she looked down on the ground as Ginny was trying to put as much distance between herself and Prongs as possible, she chuckled. "Message ends."

Prongs nodded once, nuzzled her shoulder with his nose and then turned so his back was to Ginny before leaping into the air and disappearing.

Yanking once on the ropes, Hermione helped Ginny get to her feet, and started them slowly down the hill. Seeing the still furious look in her eyes, Hermione tapped her once with her wand, tightening the bonds on her arms.

"None of that. We're going to do this by the numbers once we get back to London." Seeing that Ginny was desperately trying to say something, against her better judgment, Hermione banished the ballgag.

"You've been plotting this since you met Harry," Ginny began. "Ronald told me how you started playing on his sympathies and insecurities that first day on the train. If he'd only …"

"Ginevra, just shut it," Hermione interrupted wearily. "Harry and I never plotted anything. We fell in love back then, but we allowed ourselves to be bullied and cajoled onto the fix we find ourselves in now. And none of this would have happened if you and your mother hadn't mixed in."

"Mum tried to set things right," Ginny began before shutting her mouth with a look of panic on her face.

"That's it, go ahead and remind me about those potions of your mother's," Hermione answered as they proceeded down the slope. "While that business won't fall under DORA, you'll answer for that as well."

As they reached the bottom of the slope and walked a few yards towards a meandering waterway that snaked its way past the ancient site, Hermione could feel the tingling as they passed the boundary of the wards that surrounded Glastonbury Tor. Taking one last look over her shoulder at the ruined chapel standing there in the waning light, she adjusted the portkey coin to the holding suite at the Savoy.

Pulling Ginevra close, so her hand was touching the skin on her back, Hermione activated the coin and the pair disappeared.


	10. The First Rule of Spite Club Is …

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

_**a/n –** Welcome back. The good news – Harry Potter and everything recognizable from the Potterverse is the property of JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate minions. Corporate partners. Whomever. The bad news – There's a rumor going around that there's an rogue epilogue out there looking for a story to latch onto. _

_As a couple of people mentioned in their reviews that Harry hasn't had a chance for a heart to heart with Ron ... _

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten – The First Rule of Spite Club Is <strong>**…**

_1630 - 3 September, 2019 – Interview Room Seven, Caer Sidi – Off the coast of Wales (somewhat)_

The lighting was bright and seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The light coloured walls didn't actually glow, but if you looked at them long enough something caused the eye to look away unless you were very focused.

Sitting slouched down in one of the chairs at the table; Ron Weasley was staring at a nonexistent stain on the tabletop in front of him when a noise startled him out of his reverie. Looking up, he watched Harry Potter enter through a door that appeared in the seamless wall on the other side of that table. Looking down and seeing that the legs of the chair across from him seemed to sprout from the floor as had the ones for the chair he was sitting in, he shook his head as the chair came loose from the floor as Harry's hand touched it and pulled it back, turning it around so he was straddling the chair across from him.

"Never quite got around to asking how they did that," Ron began in a disinterested voice. Leaning back, he looked up to find Harry Potter, his onetime best mate and partner staring him intently.

"Always enjoyed the look on the faces of the skells we collared when they tried to bust out of one of these chairs and it doesn't fall away from them."

"You need to talk to her," Harry began without preamble. Seeing the disbelieving look in Ron's eyes, Harry sighed. "It won't make a tinker's damn bit of difference with the charges, either you knew what Pansy was doing or you didn't so neither of us can change what you knew. But the rest of it …"

"The rest of it?"

Staring in disbelief at Harry, Ron's fist clenched involuntarily as he slammed them against the tabletop. "You've been sleeping with her since the beginning and you have the nerve to come in here and lecture me about 'the rest of it'?"

"Ron, we never …"

Standing up awkwardly, hemmed in by the chair which didn't move back from the table, Ron glared at Harry with his hands at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as his face began to get red. Not noticing as the wards in the room began to glow in response to his anger and his temper overriding his knowledge of the protections built into these rooms, Ron moved his feet to allow him to stand a bit straighter before he snarled at Harry..

"It was a lie from the very start, the two of you played the entire family for some sick muggle game you two cooked up," Ron began, his face color rising up the spectrum. "Gin told me how you …"

"Just like she told you how Hermione 'snogged' Krum," Harry replied calmly, trying not to react to the shocked look on Ron's face. "You ended up examining Lavender's tonsils for a couple of months because of that and almost died before you came to your senses. Why on earth would you believe her …"

"Because it's always been you," Ron shot back. "You were always the one Hermione loved, right from the beginning. From the night you two left me behind to go rescue Sirius …"

"Left you behind?" Staring at Ron in total amazement, Harry ran his hand through his hair, trying to remain calm.

"You were unconscious with a bloody broken leg in the Hospital Wing," Harry began calmly. "How the bloody Hell were we supposed to drag you all over the outer ward of the castle and then ride four on Buckbeak to rescue Sirius?"

"You always have an excuse for the two of you sneaking off," Ron snarled. "Ginny told me about the time you missed your anniversary because you were with my wife."

"Ron, that was the night of the hostage standoff at the Mayan Embassy back in '07. You were there along with every auror we could scrape up and six hit wizards. Hermione kept that Yucatan separatist group talking for seven hours debating obscure points of Mayan prophecy and theology with them while we infiltrated the enclave through the sewers. I ended up saving your arse from that thirty foot crocodile familiar they had guarding the basement once we broke in."

"You're not going to use me as an excuse to explain cheating on my sister with my wife," Ron shot back. "Ginny would never blame you if we were actually at work on your anniversary."

Biting back the response that was on the tip of his tongue, Harry sat back and took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. Trying desperately to block out that little voice in the back of his head, which really sounded too much like Hermione's for his day to day peace of mind, that was snarking _"told you so"_ at him, Harry decided to take another tack with Ron.

"Ron, we've known each other almost thirty years, so I'm going to cut to the chase here." Seeing the puzzled look on his face, and feeling a deep pang of sympathy for what Hermione must have suffered through, Harry resisted the urge to grimace.

"I'm just going to get to the heart of the matter. Apparently, you've been cheating on your wife since very early on for reasons known only to you." Seeing that he was about to launch into another round of accusations and justifications, Harry held up his hand.

"Regardless of what you think your reasons are, or what justified you acting this way, the truth is that neither Hermione or myself have ever acted in violation of the intent or letter of our vows to either you or your sister," Harry continued while the Hermione voice in his head snickered at _"acted"_. Seeing that the tips of Ron's ears were turning a deeper shade of red, Harry decided to get to the point before he had a stroke.

"Arthur, acting in his role as Head of the Family for the Weasley family, questioned your mother with a scribe from the Wizengamot present and uncovered quite a number of … irregularities regarding the events of the fall after the Final Battle."

"You mean after you two came back from running off to Australia," Ron spat angrily. "Fred wasn't cold in his grave before the two of you ran off together."

"You were invited to come with us to retrieve her parents," Harry replied wearily, trying not to think about how many times this had come up over the years. "She needed help and support finding her parents. After everything she'd given up for me over the years, there never was any question about going with her."

"They were just muggles; she should have stayed at the Burrow instead of using them as an excuse to run off with you when the family needed her. We could have gone and found them in a couple of years, after things had settled down." Huffing in anger, Ron dropped noisily back into the chair on the other side of the table.

"Have you listened to yourself?" Glaring at Ron, and resisting the urge to look over his shoulder, Harry's expression became very guarded. "If it had been your parents …"

"My parents didn't need to be protected; they are part of this world. Truth be told, we would have been better off if she had left them there. That way I wouldn't have had to listen to Helen's harping on me for the past twenty years."

Seeing that there was nothing left but to ask the one question he had come in here to ask, Harry placed his feet flat on the floor and casually slid back on the chair. Trying not to make a production out of it, but he was balancing himself in case it became necessary to move quickly.

The wards and restrictions on the room should keep Ron from launching an unexpected attack, but Harry was very aware of the fact that Ron had been an auror long enough, and had been in interview rooms more than enough times to know any number of tricks.

Seeing the gloating look in Ron's eyes, Harry nodded. "I have to ask. Why?"

Looking incredulous, Ron stared at Harry in disbelief. "You have the nerve to ask 'Why' after you've been cheating on my sister with my wife?"

Resisting the urge to explain, again, that nothing physical had ever occurred between Hermione and himself, Harry stared Ron straight in the eye, trying to find an answer there. Seeing that his former friend, the wizard he had considered the brother he had never had, was glaring at him, he hardened his features and, in a calm controlled voice, asked, "Why did you ask her to marry you?"

Seeing the shocked look on Ron's face, Harry added, "According to Pansy you were cheating on her almost from the beginning. So that brings us back to why?"

"Everyone could see that you wanted her, and she wanted you," Ron replied. "Mom's potions put things back the way they should be. Once I wasn't going back to school, I didn't need her. You wanted her instead of Ginny, and giving Gin the wizard she'd wanted for so long and keeping something that you wanted seemed a fair trade for having put up with her for seven years."

Having heard it spoken aloud, Harry knew that it was true. Marrying Hermione and keeping the two of them apart was Ron's last revenge, his last betrayal for the injustices that he saw were heaped on him and his sister over the years. The information they had gotten from Molly and Ginny had told the entire sorry tale, but Harry had needed to hear it from Ron before things began to spin totally out of control.

Standing abruptly, Harry tried not to smile as Ron flinched in reaction to the motion. Looking down at him, Harry wondered if anything had ever been anything genuine between the two of them. Twenty-eight years reduced down to petty jealousy and spite. Seeing that Ron was about to launch into another spiel, Harry waved his hand and wandlessly silenced him.

"Save it, it doesn't really matter," he began. Ignoring the murderous look on Ron's face, Harry looked over his shoulder once at the blank wall behind him before turning his attention back to the wizard seated in front of him.

"Tomorrow, we're going to Hogwarts to pull the children out of classes for the day and explain what's going on, before they hear about it or read about it in the papers," Harry began. Seeing Ron narrow his eyes, Harry shrugged.

"The Ministry has ten days from the day you were arrested to either make the arrests public or go into a closed session of the Wizengamot and seal the entire affair. I'm not certain Kingsley has made his final decision, yet. Carrenton, our old boss who came out of retirement to oversee this sorry mess, has recommended to the Minister that the entire matter be sealed and the four of you simply disappear."

The shocked look on Ron's face touched something in Harry and he removed the silencing charm from him.

"So that's the way it is, you're just going to vanish us."

"Hermione's worried about the children if we do that. I'm not certain which is better, a father who simply disappears into thin air or one that's convicted of being an accomplice to a spy for terrorists and then divorced because he's been shagging some trollop who was the spy, but those are the choices we have to work with."

"I notice you're not mentioning the potions in that heartwarming little synopsis," Ron shot back.

"That's our reserve," Harry replied. "You and your sister agree to nice quiet annulments, severing your parental rights until the children are of age and then they get to decide whether or not they want you in their lives, and the interview with your mother remains sealed. Either of you two cause a scene, or go back on this agreement anytime in the future, and the evidence of the potions is brought out, your mother goes to Azkaban for a minimum of fifty years, and you and your sister get charged with and convicted of multiple counts of potions-induced rape."

"She was my wife," Ron smugly shot back, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Care to up the ante?" Harry shot back with a sneer. "You're in the same boat as your mother and sister; you interfered with the free will of the holder of a hereditary seat in the Wizengamot. You're a pureblood wizard; you know the penalty for that as well as I do."

The fact that the only penalty for that offence was to squib the offender, hung in the air between them. "You're bluffing. Remember, this is Hermione Weasley we're talking about. She's so bloody proud of being a mu … muggleborn. Whether or not you squib the mother of your children has nothing to do with me."

"Actually, this is something that is my fault," Harry chuckled. "I didn't realize it at the time, but do you remember when I gave Hermione the title for Peregrine House?" Seeing the wary nod, Harry flashed Ron a grin that would have made him the spitting image of his late father, just as a particularly clever prank was revealed.

"Well, since Hermione was granted a seat in the Wizengamot with her award of the Order of Merlin, First Class, we decided to twit all of the pureblood bigots in the assembly just a bit, so I put forward a measure to entail Peregrine House to House Granger. With the stroke of a quill, and a vote in the Wizengamot on a quiet day in September when nothing much was going on and we barely had a quorum, the House of Granger became the Honorable House of Granger with the holding of Peregrine House and the twelve acres that surround it as her entailed holding in the name of the Crown and the Wizengamot."

Seeing the disbelieving look on Ron's face, Harry chuckled as the door opened for him. Looking over his shoulder, he fired his parting shot.

"Give us any trouble with this, and you'll have your wand snapped and your magic removed in front of the Wizengamot." Pausing for a second as Ron slumped forward, hitting his forehead on the table with an audible 'thunk', Harry snarked, "Cheer up, maybe your cousin the accountant needs an office boy."


	11. … You Do Not Talk About Spite Club

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** News Bulletin – JK Rowling Still owns the Harry Potter franchise / universe and anything recognizable belongs to her and her various and sundry corporate partners. _

_As enlightening as the last meeting was, the next interview is going to be a bit of an exercise in futility, though this chapter should answer some of the questions about Molly. And about the rest of the Weasley clan._

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven - <strong>…<strong> You Do Not Talk About Spite Club**

As the door slid closed behind him, Harry waited a moment for the lights in the corridor to come up. Looking over at Hermione, who was leaning against the wall with a smug look on her face, he sighed.

"You were right, I was wrong. He's still the tactless eleven year-old that wanted to see my scar that first day."

"And this surprises you how," Hermione asked as she stood up and stepped closer to him. Wrapping her arms around Harry, she smiled as he relaxed into her embrace. "I know you were hoping that there was an adult lurking somewhere beneath the surface, but after the interviews with Pansy and Ginevra, was there any doubt as to why he did what he did."

"Was any of it ever true," Harry asked quietly as they broke apart. Looking deep into Hermione's eyes, Harry could see the love and concern there. Emotions he had ignored for far too long.

"Somewhere, deep down, I think Ginevra loved you on some level along with all of her obsessions. The fact that Molly basically brainwashed the girl from the time she was five with the 'Legend of Harry Potter' didn't help, but that fall when we came back to Britain with my parents, she knew what she was doing when she started the potions up again. But it was a very possessive love, she didn't give a tinker's damn what you thought as long as she had you," Hermione said in a low voice laden with emotion. "And she was willing to sell me to her brother to get me out of the way."

"There's no way we'll ever know who would have done what without the others being involved," Harry sighed. "Between Ron, Molly, and Ginny the three of them created a 'perfect storm' if you will and we got shipwrecked in the middle of it."

"Feel up to a chat with your soon to be ex," Hermione asked lightly, knowing Harry was dreading talking to Ginny again.

While Constantine Krum had been more than eager to paint Ginny in as negative a light as he could during his initial questioning, he kept watching for Harry's reactions as he would go into great detail about Ginny's need to punish their substitute for Harry, he had stopped short of being able to positively implicate his paramour in his espionage activities directly.

Extensive questioning under the influence of Veritaserum under the watchful eye of the advocate appointed to represent him found out extensive details about Ginny's eagerness to plan assignations in various and sundry locales, and she was only too eager to accede to Constantine's requests to meet at both Potter Hall and Grimmauld Place, the former quidditch player turned agent was never able to definitively say that she was part of the plot.

Both the magistrate assigned to the case and the advocate assigned to Ginny agreed that there was a difference between Krum's assertions "she should have known", or "anyone would have realized" and "Ginny knew I was spying and whom I was spying for.", and they were willing to leave in place the same charges that were being filed against her brother.

They were dupes, and while they broke laws in that they used their positions to provide unauthorized access, there was no 'smoking wand' regarding their culpability as knowing traitors. Wizarding law in general and the Defense of the Realm Act in particular didn't make distinctions between the need to prove that they knew they were abetting espionage; you merely had to prove they did. However, to get even a reduced panel of the Wizengamot to agree to send someone through the Veil you needed to prove that they knew they were courting that risk.

Or as Aloysius Carrenton put it in his first meeting with the defense advocates, "Being willfully ignorant and totally clueless has nothing to do with guilt or innocence in this case. It has some bearing upon sentencing, but how much is totally dependent upon the willingness of the defendants to cooperate."

As they reached the door to Interrogation Four, Hermione tapped her wand on the wall beside the door and the scrying panel to the left of the door faded into view, showing Ginny Weasley sitting at the table in the room, which was a mirror image of the one her brother had been in moments ago.

"She's too calm," Hermione observed cautiously. "She should be about two steps from a total meltdown by now."

Shaking his head, Harry smiled sadly as he touched Hermione on the arm gently. "You only think that because you haven't had the advantage of having been married to her. I've seen that look too many times to confuse it with something else. She's simply convinced that regardless of what she's done or what she's about to be accused of, someone is going to sweep in on a white charger and save the day."

"That someone being you, I take it," Hermione asked acerbically. "She can't possibly believe she's going to bat her eyes at you, smile that 'come shag me senseless' smile of hers and you're going to make it all better?"

"I suppose it's me. Regardless of her delusions about whether or not I'm going to forgive her and take her back, she knows the publishing world well enough that neither her publisher at The Prophet or Witch Weekly are going to lift a finger to help her, unless she's publicly exonerated, of course. Her conversation with Arthur has probably gotten her to accept the fact that her mother and family are going to be of exactly no help to her, for now."

Seeing the sharp look on Hermione's face when he added 'for now', Harry held up a hand to hold off on her outburst. "She knows Arthur's livid about this, that he's only a half step from disowning both her and Ron and his declaration that he is considering disowning Molly shook both of them."

The threat by the usually affable Arthur Weasley that he wasn't considering divorcing his wife but disowning her and casting her out of the family was something that had gotten the attention of both of the youngest Weasleys. A simple divorce, especially under the conditions of having used a potion on Arthur all of those years ago, would be bad for Molly, but it would be something she could eventually recover from and forge some sort of life for herself.

Being disowned and cast out, on the other hand, was a terrible punishment that was rarely used in wizarding Britain. While there had been many reforms and changes in Britain since the defeat of Tom Riddle, family was still everything. Being cast out of the Weasley family would make Molly, essential, a 'non-person' in the eyes of wizarding Britain.

While not as bad as a declaration of outlawry by the Wizengamot, being cast out would essentially prevent Molly from moving on with her life. The House of Prewitt, the family she was born into, would be legally prevented from taking her in as a member of the family unless they were willing to challenge the Weasley family's declaration in front of the Wizengamot, and considering the political connections of the Weasley family as part of the Potter-Black block in the body did not bode well for any challenges.

Also, by casting Molly out of the family, that essentially ended the marriage, for Arthur leaving him free to remarry as he saw fit. Molly, on the other hand, would be unable to marry without a declaration from her former family. If she had been unmarried when cast out, she would be free to forge a liaison if she could find someone.

As it stood, such an action by Arthur would, for all intents and purposes, make Molly a non-person in the wizarding world.

Seeing that Hermione understood, Harry shrugged helplessly. "I'm not certain which one of the three is the more delusional, but I would guess that Ginny actually believes her father will 'kiss and make up' with Molly sooner or later, but I'm not certain that she believes it will happen in a timely enough fashion to enlist Molly's help in getting me to forgive her."

Unspoken between the two was their mutual decision to ask Arthur to forgo formal criminal charges against Molly, even though he was the first injured party in Molly's crimes. All three of them had felt that a public trial of Molly would have a serious impact upon the children. Not only Harry and Hermione's, but her other grandchildren as well.

While Bill and Fleur's oldest had graduated, they still had three daughters of school age. George and Angelina had four and Percy and Audrey's oldest two were currently at Hogwarts with another set to follow in another year.

While perpetual bachelor Charlie had never married, his long-time relationship with the Holyhead Harpy's coach and former seeker Cho Chang that began after his transfer from Romania to the dragon preserve located in Wales caused not a few raised eyebrows when her ginger-haired daughter named Feilong Chang entered Hogwarts three years ago. The shy and demure girl merely smiled inscrutably when Rose Weasley simply asked "Flying Dragon?" when the pair first met, translating the mysterious Ravenclaw's given name.

The fact she was considered the odds on favorite for the position of seeker for her house team this season only added to the rumor mill, as did Charlie's frequent guest appearances at Hogwarts as a lecturer for the NEWT level Care courses that began the year Miss Chang was sorted.

All three adults, in consultation with the other Weasley families, decided that sending Molly to Azkaban would have a very detrimental effect on her numerous grandchildren. It was going to be difficult enough explaining the sudden absence of the domineering witch from family life, not even Percy was looking forward to explaining to his children about visiting their grandmother in prison for the hols. Though George's plan for sending her pastries with vials of love potions and miniature rubber saws baked into them in honor of Mothering Sunday did bring a smile to Arthur's face for a moment.

Placing his hand on the flat copper plate that marked the door, Harry felt the security wards of Caer Sidi scan his magic and slide the door out of the way. Stepping into the room, he felt a touch of déjà vu as he strode across the open space and reached for the chair to turn it around before sitting.

Just as his hand touched the chair, allowing it to come free from the floor, Ginny surprised him by speaking quietly and calmly.

"No need to sit; let's just get this over with so we can go home."

Looking up at him, totally calm and relaxed, Ginny allowed a small frown to form before continuing, ignoring Harry's look of surprise.

"I won't mention any of this, so we can just drop this pretense that you're going to do anything about my friendship with Constantine and get me home so I can take a nice warm bath and soak. I'm going to have to call my editor to explain why that interview about Jones' retirement hasn't been turned in yet, but that can wait until after we decide how you're going to apologize for dumping me here while you and that person where doing Merlin knows what behind my back."

Slowly lowering himself so that he was straddling the chair and facing her, Harry was, for the first time in years, shocked past the point where rational thought was possible. Watching as his wife primly folded her hands in front of her on the table, he stared at her, not really believing she was this delusional. He had prepared himself for her being in denial about the severity of things, but this was almost beyond the pale.

When that voice in the back of his head that still sounded a bit too much like Hermione remarked that Ginevra was so deep in denial a crocodile was looking at her eye to eye, he started chuckling without meaning to, something that Ginny didn't take well.

"Harry, this is serious. You've had your fun, I've spent two days dealing with thoroughly unpleasant people in this place and it's time for you to take me home so you can apologize in private and we can get back to our lives. Once we do this, we'll discuss how to explain to Daddy he's gone too far and needs to let Mum take care of this."

"Ginny," Harry began cautiously, "you do realize you were arrested on Sunday for your part in Constantine Krum's espionage activities against the Ministry and wizarding Britain?"

"What Constantine may or may not have been doing is immaterial, just because you're annoyed that I reacted to your affair with Hermione is no reason to think that I'm just going to overlook this. We'll discuss this once we get back to the house."

"Ginny, you're actually under arrest and you're being held here at Caer Sidi under the provisions of the Defense of the Realm Act. You're certainly not going anywhere today, and there's a chance you might not be going anywhere, ever." Not wanting to look over his shoulder, Harry was trying to parse out exactly what was going on. Was she simply playing a game to see if she could guilt him into bailing her out of this, or had her contact with reality slipped loose?

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. None of that applies to us, you're 'The Wizard Who Won' and I'm your wife. I'm eventually going to forgive you of your going too far this time, but she's got to go. I don't care if she is my brother's wife; Ron needs to keep her on a shorter leash, so you need to pack her back to Ron's house so he can keep her out of trouble."

"Ginny, you do remember that Hermione is, essentially, my boss?" Seeing the 'so?' look in her eyes, Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You're in trouble here, and it's not something I can do anything about, even if I wanted to. The only reason I'm here today is to let you know that Hermione and I will be speaking to the children …"

"No. I don't want that harridan anywhere around our children. I sincerely doubt Ron's going to allow her to continue poisoning the minds of his children and I'm certainly not going to sit still while she fills their heads with lies and half-truths."

"Ginny, you need to listen carefully to me. Quite apart from the criminal charges you're facing, Hermione and I are preparing the parchmentwork to file for an annulment of our marriages. If this goes quietly and cleanly, we can talk about your place in the children's lives, but that hinges on whether or not you cooperate or whether you want to fight this."

"Harry, don't be ridiculous. We're married and that's something you can't change, no matter how much that swot wants …"

Whatever Ginny's thoughts about what Hermione wanted were, they were cutoff as the door to the room slid open and Hermione came bustling through it. Coming to a halt behind Harry, she placed her off hand on Harry's shoulder and gently squeezed.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, we're going to accomplish this with or without the cooperation of you and your brother, but for the sake of our children, I'd advise you to cooperate. Whether or not you like it, your marriage to Harry is quickly coming to an end and if you ever want a chance of being involved in the lives of your children, you should simply shut it."

"Harry will come to his senses, and after he's kicked you to the curb I'll still be his wife and you won't have anything," Ginny retorted, her cheeks starting to tinge red.

"Harry, it's no use," Hermione said calmly, squeezing his shoulder gently. "My recommendation to Aloysius will be that she be evaluated by that certified mind healer Poppy contacted and see what she recommends." Pausing for a moment as Ginny huffed in her chair and did a credible imitation of a spoiled five-year old, Hermione shrugged.

"She was under the influence of two horcruxes over the years, that had to have had an effect," Hermione sighed. Moving her hand on to Harry's back and pressing gently, she added, "you were in contact with one and it left you mad as a hatter, who knows what two of them did to her."

"Harry, I won't allow this, I won't be cast aside like a broken quill," Ginny stated in a calm and controlled voice. "Once I start telling my story …"

"Ginny, no one cares about your delusions," Harry quietly replied as he stood up. "Constantine's been trying to throw you to the wolves since he got here, your brother has no problem if I were to squib you as long as it doesn't involve him, your mother implicated you as the instigator of what occurred back in '98, and frankly neither Hermione or I have the time nor the energy to try to sort you out. We have five children to think of, and that's going to be our primary focus going forward."

"Six children, Harry," Hermione chided him softly. "I know Teddy's married and one of your aurors now, but he's just as conflicted about this as any of his sibs will be."

Springing up from her chair, Ginny glared at Hermione. "He was never one of ours."

"You're right, Ginevra," Hermione replied sadly, but with a wry smile as she stared back at the witch who had been the Maid of Honor at her wedding. "You always made it crystal clear that he wasn't your son. But, he's always been 'ours'," she declared confidently as she put her hand on Harry's arm. "Just as the others are and will be moving forward."

Turning on her heel, Hermione paused only long enough to see that Harry was following her before she started for the entrance. As she reached out to trigger the door, Ginny's voice caused her to pause.

"Aren't you going to ask 'why'?"

As the door slid open, Hermione turned and looked over her shoulder at Ginny for a moment before shaking her head. Taking a deep breath, she sighed and released it.

"No, because I already know the answer," she began as Harry moved into the doorway. "It's the same reason as Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, Cormac MacLaggen, and Draco Malfoy." Pausing for a moment, Hermione smirked at the shocked look on Ginny's face as she realized that Hermione knew about things she'd thought safely buried in the past from her days at school and while she was 'dating' Harry after the war.

Stepping into the corridor, Hermione turned and timed her answer so that it came just as the door sealed behind her.

Just before Ginny disappeared from view, Hermione shrugged and answered, "Because you could. Because it would hurt Harry if he ever found out."

The door sealed with an audible click.


	12. Dramatis Personae

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** We're not quite ready to head to Scotland, first we need to check in with our favorite Death Eater, 'Lucky Lucy' Malfoy. And while we're dodging the albino peacocks, I'd like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that the Harry Potter universe and everything recognizable from that belongs to JK Rowling and her various and sundry partners._

_One administrative note. The publishing schedule for this story may slow down just a bit in the future. I apologize for not being able to keep to the Saturday publishing date that I'd been keeping._

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve – Dramatis Personae<strong>

_1700 gmt 3 September 2019, Peacock Hall outside Mere, Wiltshire_

"No one has seen her since Sunday morning."

Pushing through the ornate front doors of the manor house as soon as they began to open, the dark haired wizard wrapped up in a travelling cloak, forced his way into the reception area of the former Malfoy Manor. Turning around, he stared defiantly at the older man who had opened the door for him and waited.

"We'll discuss the fact that you were never supposed to be seen within twenty miles of this house afterwards," Lucius Malfoy said quietly as he gestured towards the entrance to the formal sitting room.

"Since you are here, you might as well come in. And it wouldn't be the first time she's been out of touch for several days," Lucius continued as he ushered the younger man into the sitting room.

As the younger man turned and glared, Lucius indicated the divan with one hand as he moved over to the side table. Picking up the crystal decanter, he smiled thinly.

"Care for a brandy, Pavel before you explain why you thought it necessary to compromise my home?"

Pulling the leather gloves off, Pavel glared in return. "Other than the fact that we need to execute End Game, I have no idea." Shaking his head as he crossed the room to Lucius, he grabbed the decanter from the older wizard's hand. Thumbing the stopper and letting it drop to the floor, Pavel raised the decanter to his lips and took a deep pull.

"It's a good thing this dump now belongs to that worthless son of yours, maybe the Ministry will credit everything they find to his account. Grab what you need; you should be gone before midnight."

"What are you blathering about?" Staring at the younger man with a look of scorn and disdain, Lucius turned and moved to the sideboard, where he retrieved an unopened bottle of brandy from the cabinet next to it. Gently placing the bottle onto the sideboard, he opened a drawer and began to look inside.

"There's no reason to panic, it's hardly the first time she's gone off on an unscheduled holiday with her current 'project'." Removing a curved blade from the drawer, he drawled, "And for the record, that decanter you're swilling like tepid butterbeer used to be one of the seven remaining batches of Chateau Delacour, 1795."

"I don't give a flying rat's arse where you got that bottle of paint remover or how long you've had it. She'll roll over on us faster than you run through elves. If she's been picked up, and the fact that Constantine is nowhere to be found either lends credence to that theory." Pausing for a moment as the older man digested that bit of information, Pavel Dolohov sneered as he saw that the former Death Eater was looking for some way to turn this to his advantage.

"You're the one who insisted that we remain the primary contact between the Path and these two. Whatever else she's been able to uncover over the years, ours are the first doorsteps aurors will come knocking on." Pausing for a moment until the older man was looking up, he added dryly, "And I fully intend to not be there when they do."

Seeing that Lucius was going to protest, Pavel scowled. "She'll roll over and tell everything she knows if she even suspects that they'll budge on putting her away. And it's not going to take a great deal of thought for someone at the Ministry to suspect that you had more than a little to do with pointing those two in the direction of that particular pair of Weasleys and while the last thing I want to do is stand trial under your DORA, the very last thing would be standing trial with Potter and Granger taking it personally."

"Constantine has his family contacts to fall back on, so even if he were to be picked up, which I sincerely doubt, a couple of floo calls and the Bulgarian Ambassador will be in Kingsley's office almost immediately"

"Are you daft?" Staring incredulously, Pavel gathered his cloak around him preparing to leave.

"I have no intention of occupying the cell across from my father's cell waiting for a date with your Veil."

Crossing the sitting room and heading back to the doorway, Pavel looked over his shoulder at Lucius as he was methodically pouring brandy into a crystal snifter and failed to keep the look of scorn from his face.

"You'll be sitting here getting drunk off your pathetic arse when they come for you and hopefully I'll never get the opportunity to tell you 'I told you so'," he sneered from the doorway.

"Just in case you're wrong and I'm not arrested this evening," Lucius drawled savoring the scent of the brandy in his glass, "has the transfer of the documents from this weekend been accomplished?"

"Are you mad?"

Staring in disbelief, Pavel turned around and took a step back into the room. "Didn't you hear a thing I said? They're missing. Both of them. No one's seen hide or hair of them after Pansy put that bastard brat of hers on the train Sunday. I was able to get confirmation that the reservations at both hotels were used, but after that, nothing."

"Tread lightly, that child is an investment of both time and resources," Lucius replied. "With a bit of judicious manipulation and a few fortuitous accidents, that child could be the key to breaking the Potter faction in the government."

"Lucius, you're delusional. A bastard by-blow whose very existence would disgrace a sixth son? I never understood why Pansy kept the child," Pavel sneered keeping the mental observation that during the pregnancy she didn't have to accommodate either Weasley or Lucius so that might have had something to do with it, though how she convinced that ginger moron that the chit wasn't his was anyone's guess.

Turning away, he pulled his cloak around him and headed for the door. Without bothering to turn around, he exited with, "I'm not going to tell you where I'm headed since if I wanted the Ministry to know I'd just drop them an owl, but if you're still a free man, I'll look for you in the usual place on the fifteenth."

Having no intention of being at the Hyperion Club, or anywhere within the grasp of the British Ministry after he stepped out Lucius' front door, Pavel Dolohov made his way through the foyer and paused for a moment before putting his hand on the door. Feeling that the manor's apparition wards were still in place, and cursing the paranoid ex Death Eater for never keying him into the estate's defenses, he quickly disillusioned himself before opening the door.

Knowing from what Pansy had told him about Lucius' protections that while no incoming apparitions or portkeys, other than those keyed into the wards, could come closer than the property line, outbound apparition and portkey travel was possible from the square of green marble that was set directly in front of the door.

Quickly opening the door, he stepped directly on the square of marble and twisted, heading for an empty storage locker in a muggle neighbourhood in York, one that he had rented through a front seven years ago, paid twenty years rent in advance and only visited once.

As the hook through the navel feeling passed, Pavel could see that the cache of money, potions, portkeys, and travelling needs that he had placed here were still available as the lumos charms he had keyed to his presence illuminated the small room. Quickly packing everything into two small leather cases, he smirked at the thought of what the Ministry would do when their aurors stormed the place in the next twenty minutes if they noticed the unauthorized international portkey leaving from the middle of a seedy muggle area.

Moving over to the door, which was locked from the outside, he knelt down and placed a small crystal sphere on the ground that glowed as if a fire were burning within it. Casting a wandless notice-me-not charm on it, he stood back up and moved to the center of room. Carefully spreading his feet apart, he knelt down and placed an identical sphere between them and cast the exact same charm.

Standing back up, and keeping his feet well away from the sphere that he knew was on the floor, he smiled at what would happen when the aurors responded to his portkey. No matter whether they recklessly homed in on the exact spot he activated his portkey on, or were more cautious and came through the door from the corridor outside, one of them would certainly damage one or both of the crystals he was leaving behind as a small consolation for not finding their target.

Of course, the pair of salamanders currently in stasis inside those spheres would be suitably annoyed when released and should do enough damage to cloud the issue of exactly who, or what, was in this room before the block burned down.

And since he'd had his agent lease the storage area under the name of 'Hermione Granger', that should muddy the waters just a bit, especially since she was glamoured to look exactly like the current head of the DMLE so if the agent who did the transaction is available, it should be one more thing to delay the Ministry dispatching a Hit Wizard on his trail.

Pulling the three portkeys from his pocket, he made certain that they were in the proper order so that his trail from York to Calais to Luxembourg and finally to Tallinn should be relatively safe.

Taking a deep breath, he tapped the first of the portkeys and whispered, "Portus" and was gone.

* * *

><p><em>1730 gmt 3 September 2019, Peacock Hall outside Mere, Wiltshire<em>

Cursing under his breath, Lucius took one last sip of his brandy as reached his front door and jerked it open, intent on cursing that obnoxious Dolohov for daring to disturb him twice in one day. Wishing, and not for the first time, he was working with the man's father who was languishing in Azkaban instead of the insolent bastard, he pulled the door open and prepared to give him a piece of his mind.

And stared in disbelief as he saw an entire squad of aurors in front of his house, wands drawn.

"Good evening, Sieur Malfoy," began the tall blonde auror wearing the insignia of a team leader. "My name is Horace Smithers, Auror Commander of Team Twelve. I am in possession of a warrant to search these premises, signed by the Chief Magistrate and endorsed by the property owner, one Draco Malfoy, and a warrant for your arrest. Would you please step outside?"

Unfortunately for Lucius, shaking his head in disbelief was, in the opinion of the fourteen aurors, seven forensic technicians, and the two Ministry advocates observing the proceedings, sufficient provocation to add 'resisting arrest' and justify the seven stunners, five disarming charms, three incarcerous charms, and two bludgeoning hexes that struck him.

Senior Auror Freddie Gunn, former seeker for the Hufflepuff house team, caught the brandy snifter as if flew through the air, making Lucius the only casualty of the raid.


	13. Lessons Not in the Syllabus

**The Phoenix Syndrome  
><strong>

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><p><em><strong>an –** Along with the warrant for Lucius' arrest in the previous chapter, Hector also had in his possession a declaration from the Ministry's Chief Advocate for Intellectual Property stating that it is the Ministry's position that the Harry Potter universe and all things recognizable and pertaining to said universe are the sole property of one JK Rowling and her corporate partners. (Curiously enough, the individual in charge of that particular office is a holdover from the Fudge regime who just happens to be a third cousin twice removed to the Crouch family, so you can make of that what you will.)_

_This chapter is a bit long, but once it started, there really never seemed to be a good place to end it until Rose got in the last word. And, considering whose daughter and granddaughter she is, that's not really surprising._

_Also, before anyone suggests that the young witches and wizards in this chapter are behaving OOC, or at least atypical for children in their situation, remember that 50% of the time, the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree. Or is it that the acorns don't fall far from 50% of the trees? Either way, here's a little bit of family time in the Come and Go Room._

_**a/n2 –** This chapter was edited and replaced on 4/8/2013 to correct a major continuity goof (and to protect Charlie's reputation). Nothing in the plot has changed, only a couple of the names in Rose's rant. I was finishing proofing Chapter 22 and noticed that I'd goofed and changing Chapter 13 a bit was the easiest way to correct it.  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen –Lessons Not in the Syllabus<strong>

1030 gmt 4 September 2019, Seventh Floor corridor, Hogwarts School, Scotland

"They're all really Weasleys. That's the only reasonable answer."

Shaking her head, Lily Luna Potter closed her eyes as she leaned against the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. Tired of watching the trolls out of the corner of her eye, just in case one of them decided to move, she folded her arms across her chest.

"Merri, if I ever get to the point where I'm as bad as the rest of this family, do me a favor. Just stun me and toss my body from the Astronomy Tower."

Ignoring the giggling coming from her best friend, Lily Potter continued trying to sort out the things in her life that made no sense. It was bad enough that she'd set a record, according to her cousin Freddie, for spending the longest time under the Sorting Hat during her sorting in modern history, but she had the feeling that today was the day that all of her misgivings about the things that were wrong in her family were going to come to a head.

Contrary to what 'everyone' thought about the 'Golden Couple', and she was convinced that 'everyone' in this case translated to her mother and grandmother along with anyone who didn't actually know them, Lily had known from before she could talk that something was very wrong with how her mother and grandmother treated most of the people in the family and her father in particular.

This frosted young Lily Potter to no end, since she was 'Daddy's Girl' first last and always.

Feeling a small bit of hope begin to blossom, Lily sent off a quick prayer to whatever Power that took an interest in witches who loathed their mothers that today would be the day when the plague on her life that was Ginevra Weasley would be cured.

Lily suddenly realized that her friend was talking to her and she guiltily turned her attention back to Merri with a sheepish grin.

"Lils, now that you're back from wherever you wandered off to, could it possibly be that the rest of them are still in class, since your da's message said that he would be up here fifteen minutes of to get things set up? That might be a reasonable answer as to why we're the only two people in this hallway," Merri Smithers offered in an innocent tone. Smirking as her best friend's eyes narrowed, flashing that emerald green that made gave so many people pause, Merri simply rolled her blue ones and chuckled.

"If you hadn't been in such a state that Uncle Neville let you go early, we'd both be outside in the greenhouse and packing up rather than cooling our heels up here, dodging water balloons from Peeves."

Pausing for a moment as her friend started blushing, Merri shrugged. "Of course I wasn't going to let you come up here by yourself and fret yourself into a state."

"I'm not that …" Breaking off at the disbelieving look on Merri's face, Lily started giggling and blushed. "All right, I am that bad."

"Mum says if she hadn't been in the delivery room and saw you being born, she'd swear you were Aunt Hermione's child," Merri chortled as the blush on her friend's face intensified. "Though the Headmistress says you're not just your grandmother's namesake, you're Lily Evans reborn."

Before Lily could reply, another voice broke into the conversation, causing both of them to look up.

"Thank Circe for that. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd credit Lily Evans as the source of my stunningly beautiful ginger locks over the cow that gave birth to my father," Rose Weasley snarked as she noisily dropped her book bag to the floor and slid down the wall. Looking over at the gobsmacked stares she was getting, she brushed some dust from the green trimmed sleeves of her robes and sighed.

"The woman's a nightmare, she's the one that keeps my father going on about my sorting," Rose huffed. Shaking her head, sending her barely controllable red locks bouncing, she snorted.

"It's bad enough having to listen to that teuchter Bowen Finch-Fletchley nattering on about the family, but that cow makes it sound as if being the first Weasley since the fourteenth century to be sorted into Slytherin is some sort of crime."

"What's Bozo going on about now," Lily asked casually as she smiled at Merri who was still shocked by Rose despite the fact she'd known her for most of her life.

"For having a father who's a magistrate and a mother who's supposedly an Unspeakable, he's rather a pompous git for being only being thirteen." Pausing for a moment, Lily thought for a second before smiling innocently. "He can't possibly blame the family for the fact that there's a rumor going round about him being seen coming out of a broom closet with Flora Parkinson?"

Looking over at her cousin, Rose narrowed her eyes as she decided that the 'innocent' look on Lily's face was just a bit contrived. "I know being a Snake, I don't hear all of the gossip going around, but sharing classes with Crystal I think I would have heard that one. Especially when it concerns a witch in my house, much as it pains me to admit it." Shuddering for a moment, she closed her eyes. "When did you hear that rumor?"

"Tonight at dinner, I haven't started it yet," Lily replied cheerfully. "If Bozo's going to spread scandalous rumors about Hugo and the Dursley twins, then I'm going to retaliate."

"Lily, Hugo is dating both of the Dursley twins," Merri pointed out, trying to be reasonable. "And I think Tuney settled the matter regarding people talking behind their collective backs yesterday at lunch when Elizabeth Fudge's trainers ended up melted into the floor and the stupid bint didn't notice until she stood up and went to leave. If the three of them don't really care …"

"That's not the point. Regardless of surnames, Lily and Petunia are Potter witches, just like the rest of us and no one messes with Potter witches," Lily replied hotly, her eyes flashing in annoyance. "And besides, while Hugo is my cousin, and Lily and Petunia are my cousins, they're not cousins so if I hear one more inbred joke from that pompous bit of pond scum from the shallow end of the gene pool of wizarding life, I'll ensure that he never has a chance to reproduce."

"Lily Luna Potter, I want that to be the last time I hear you threatening some wizard's ability to reproduce," broke in a voice that all three witches knew very well. "Unless, of course, the wizard in question tried to force himself upon you and then I expect you to just do it rather than talk about it. Talking about things like that will get you a reputation young lady."

Launching herself from her spot against the wall, Lily Potter turned into a hug seeking missile as she collided with her aunt and wrapped her arms around her.

While Hermione was greeting Lily, Rose smirked and nodded to Harry as she gracefully unfolded herself from the floor. "As opposed to what happens when you sock some purebred teuchter with a right hook and break his nose. Correct, Uncle Harry?"

Seeing the blush on Hermione's cheeks, Harry wisely decided to change the course of that particular conversation since Rose was a past master at winding her mother up.

"Speaking of Malfoys how is young Scorpius?"

"Currently the rising star chaser for Gryffindor quidditch, much to my dismay," Rose replied with a smirk on her face and a slight blush. "Of course, to hear his father tell it, he should be the starting seeker, but there's a Potter standing in the way, once again."

"I see you're postponing giving them the quidditch related news," a new voice broke in. Looking up, Harry could see James approaching from the opposite direction with a puzzled look on his face. Seeing that his oldest was carefully watching the rest of the group, Harry gave Hermione a quick look before answering.

"It's much too early for any of the houses to have had tryouts," Harry began noticing that Rose's blush amped up noticeably. "Or is it?"

"Well," James began; suddenly uncomfortable since he realized that he was about to walk all over his cousin's announcement and that it did have implications in the wider scheme of things, family wise.

"For Heaven's sake," Rose snapped. "James, since when has my third favorite Gryffindor started looking in the middle of his leap, rather than just leaping off the deep end as per usual?"

Turning to her uncle and mother, Rose blushed again. "The Slytherin house team was pretty well set, but since last year's seeker was on shaky ground academically, Professor Davis decided that we needed to look for a new seeker. She and Professor Weasley were out on the ward last night, heading for the pitch to post the announcement when they saw that a number of us were having an impromptu game of pixie tag on the grounds and …"

Breaking off and blushing, Rose suddenly stopped talking as both Harry and Hermione were staring at her. Seeing that she wasn't going to continue, Lily did the honors.

"Dad, Auntie, she was incredible. She caught the last pixie pulling out of a dive that started about eighty feet above the Astronomy Tower and ended up six inches from the grass. She did a double roll out of it and then buzzed the two professors doing one twenty easy. It was the coolest thing I'd ever witnessed, and the fact she did it on a school broom…"

"She WHAT?" Harry and Hermione chorused in unison as they stared at her in disbelief.

"Since, in the words of our Headmistress, 'the last time I saw something that foolhardy, there was a rememberall involved', I think my sister plans on ending Gryffindor's reign at the top of the quidditch heap."

"Hugo, dear, don't you think you should let your sister tell her own story of incredible daring do and borderline suicidal flying ability," chimed in Petunia Dursley as her sister Lily smacked their boyfriend on the back of his head. "Since you're the Ravenclaw of the group, you should be intelligent enough to figure out that if you keep trying to steal a Slytherin's thunder, I will have to punish you."

Before Harry or Hermione could greet the trio that had just arrived, or turn their attention back to Rose, the sound of running feet drew everyone's attention as they all looked up to see Albus Severus Potter running full out towards them. His red and gold tie over his shoulder, Al didn't look as if he was planning to stop.

As Harry put his hand out to slow his son down, the reason for Al's apparent headlong flight came zipping around the corner after him, screaming like a ban-shide.

"Albus Severus Potter, if you don't stop right this second, after I get finished disemboweling you I'm going to …."

Skidding to a halt, a blonde witch in Hogwarts robes trimmed in Gryffindor house colors stared in disbelief at the assembled group and promptly closed her eyes and began repeating, "Kill me now, kill me now. Will someone just bloody kill me now and put me out of my misery" over and over.

Glaring at her godson and nephew with a look that everyone present correctly interpreted that Albus had better have a very good explanation for what was going on, Hermione turned her attention back to Harry for a moment to silence him with the same glare before stepping around Lily and placing a comforting hand on the young witch's arm.

"Crystal, it's going to be fine. Knowing his father as I do, I'm certain Al deserves for you to be upset with him." As Crystal Mackenzie-Brown's eyes popped open, Hermione nodded encouragingly to her. As the she relaxed, Hermione added in a very reasonable tone, "But next time instead of running through the halls like one of the aes sidhe during the Wild Hunt, a simple Petrificus Totalis usually suffices to get a young wizard's attention and allows you to maintain a modicum of decorum."

Pausing for a moment as the daughter of their longtime friend Lavender stared at her in disbelief, Hermione added wryly, "And it has the added benefit of not having to catch your breath when you do catch up to him so you can start explaining the error of his ways to him all that much sooner."

Before Al could chime in, Hermione turned to him, stopping him in mid retort with a withering stare worthy of the Headmistress. "Al, wouldn't it be better if you simply apologized to Crystal now? This way, it's out of the way and we can move along to more important things and the rest of us are spared all of the gory details of your misdeeds." Waiting until a slight look of relief appeared on his face, she added, "For the moment."

"Chrys," Albus began in a hesitant voice. Seeing that she was not only calm, but smiling at him, he took a deep breath and blurted out, "I'm sorry about teasing you about asking Kali. Of course I planned on asking you to go with me for our first Hogsmeade weekend. It's just that was the eleventh time you'd started dropping hints this morning, and I …"

Trailing off as he noticed that her smile was fading the further he got into his apology, all suddenly closed his eyes and sighed noisily. "Should have stopped while I was ahead, correct?"

"Correct, you dufus," Crystal snapped. "And besides I only mentioned it a couple of times."

"Penalty shot for bull puckey, Chrys," Rose chimed in. "You mentioned it six times at breakfast alone. Morganna only knows how many times you worked it in during Arithmancy while the two of you were 'brainstorming' on your project."

Seeing the 'not helping' look on her cousin's face, Rose smirked and winked at her friend and classmate. "I'll just wait over there with Uncle Harry while he dials up the proper version of the 'Come and Go' room for us."

Stepping away from the pair, Rose moved over beside her mother and uncle. Seeing that they were engaged in yet another of their unspoken conversations that so infuriated her father, she suppressed her usual feeling that this was certainly better than the continual arguments her parents engaged in. Or the perpetual cold war that existed between Harry and her Aunt Ginny.

Suddenly realizing that both the Weasley members of the parental pool were missing, Rose cast a worried look over at James. Seeing his knowing nod in return, she quietly stepped away and started back towards Crystal.

Interrupting the painful flirting that was going on between her and Al, Rose whispered a couple of terse sentences into Crystal's ear. The widening of her eyes was the only evidence of her surprise, but as soon as Crystal looked over and saw the dynamic between the two adults, she smiled reassuringly and stepped over to where Hugo and the Dursley twins were.

Seeing that James had spoken to Lily and Merri, and that Merri had joined the subtle exodus of friends from the scene, she crossed the corridor and began to walk back and forth across from the tapestry, all the while thinking "We need a place for Mum and Uncle Harry to give us bad news."

As a nondescript door appeared in the wall, Rose looked up and caught Harry staring at her with a peculiar expression on his face. No, peculiar wasn't the word she wanted, it was only peculiar because she really wasn't used to seeing that look of admiration and pride on the face of an adult wizard.

While Rose described the relationship between herself and her father as strained, and it had only deteriorated since the night of her sorting, most of her cousins and friends who were aware of the situation were much less charitable. 'Abysmal' and 'glacial' were two words that came up frequently, though the Dursley twins used the term 'Vernonesque' after their reviled grandfather.

Although, if the truth were to be told, the relationships with her father for both her brother and herself had never been warm, at least since she could remember. And while her Potter cousins had drifted towards her mum for a witch's perspective on things, both she and Hugo had looked to Harry Potter for the things that a witch or wizard growing up needed from a father. This added to the problems in her home since while her father didn't seem to have time for either of them, he was very vocally bitter about any time they spent with Harry.

As she tentatively put her hand on the handle that appeared, Harry's whispered "that's my girl" reached her ears just as Lily Luna joined her at the door. A quick look out of the corner of her eye told her that while Lily had heard her father's remark she wasn't upset or annoyed as evidenced by the smirk that graced her lips.

Pulling the door open, Rose strode purposefully into the room, quickly taking in the furnishings and decorations of the room. The walls and fixtures were all in very soft pastels, mostly blues and greens, with any highlights being a dusky rose in color. The furniture was all overstuffed and comfortable looking, reminiscent of the Hufflepuff common room furnishings.

Seeing that there was a sideboard placed against the wall opposite the door, and a couple of the school elves were finishing up placing an assortment of things to eat and drink out, Rose slung her bookbag at one of the two seaters on the side and moved over to the table, smiling at the elves and thanking them as she snagged a mug and began to fill it with tea.

Finishing the mug off with a splash of milk, she turned and headed back to the seat that she had claimed just as her mother and Harry entered the room. Seeing that her mother sealed the door with a couple of privacy charms of her own invention, Rose knew that her initial thoughts were correct.

Looking around the room, she caught Al's eye and nodded for him to take the seat next to her. Of the six of them, for like the others she counted Teddy Lupin one of the family, Al was the one who was going to be hardest hit if things were about to go pear-shaped for the family.

As she settled into the seat, she looked over at Lily, who was by herself in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. Turned so she could see the entire group, Lily was carefully noting each person's reactions and interactions. When Rose's eyes met Lily's, Rose took a deep breath in surprise at what she saw there. Instead of the worry that was evident in the eyes of the others, Lily's emerald green eyes showed resignation and relief.

"She knows," was the first thought that crossed Rose's mind, which was confirmed by the knowing smile and small nod from her younger cousin. While Lily's relationship with her mother rivaled hers with her father for, as their cousin Freddie joked, "putting the fun in dysfunctional", there had always been an uncanny calm in Lily's dealings with her mother.

As if an electrical charge had passed through her, Rose realized that Lily had known this day was coming. Whatever they were about to be told, Lily had known it would happen and had been biding her time.

Rose clearly remembered the day of Lily's tenth birthday when she had found her cousin sitting quietly in the library of Peregrine House reading after her mother had caused a scene by arriving back into the country from covering Quidditch somewhere and was complaining bitterly that her daughter's birthday party had been planned by her aunt and that it wasn't at the Burrow.

As Rose had awkwardly come over to where Lily had been sitting, not knowing what to say to the young girl whose birthday party had just become a circus thanks to her mother, Lily calmly, and without looking up, said, "It's all right, Rosie. One day she's going to be gone, swept back out to sea like a winter gale out of the Hebrides. Until then, we simply take cover and wait."

Just as Hermione walked over to stand in front of the fireplace, a subtle chime came from the door. Looking up, Hermione quirked an eyebrow for a moment and then smiled as she simply waved her hand at the door.

A squelching sound, followed by the distinct sound of several bolts being retracted followed as the door began to swing open.

Bustling through the door, a blonde witch dressed in the dark red robes of a Ministry Advocate, albeit without the runes that would indicate she had passed her examination by the Wizengamot's licensing board, came to a halt as soon as she saw the gathered crowd.

Smiling brightly, Victoire Lupin, nee Weasley, took an impromptu curtsey as she realized that every eye in the room was on her. Turning to face Hermione, who was standing in front of the fireplace with a bemused smile, she blushed.

"A thousand pardons, Director. Just as I was leaving that smarmy defense advocate from the Andrews case came in." Seeing her mother-in-law school her features to keep from smiling at her characterization of Alexander Beane, Vicky continued with a smirk.

"He keeps complaining that since there's no body, we can't charge his client with murder since we can't prove Davidson is dead." Rolling her eyes at the look on Harry's face, she held up her hand and stopped his protest before he could voice it.

"Dad, I know that the reason there isn't a body in this case is because, along with assault and murder, Christie Andrews is also charged with desecration of a corpse and cannibalism." Pausing for a moment to allow her sibs-in-law slash cousins to digest that little tidbit, she continued with a twinkle.

"I was finally able to get rid of him by handing him off to Grandpa Arthur and that Oxblood boffin from Muggle Services when they walked in. Grandpa knew that I needed to leave and told me to scoot, that he'd handle Beane's argument."

"The outhouse paid off?" Harry asked, looking thoughtfully over at Hermione who was trying not to laugh. "He's going to argue that you can't get DNA from there."

"Harry, the Ministry will stipulate that while Davidson's body passing through Andrews' digestive track would compromise the DNA not allowing for a match. However, the victim's magical signature survived intact so we can forensically prove that the byproducts we recovered from the pit below the outhouse on the muggle farm Andrews was using as a hideout started off as the victim and that it was the defendant's digestive track that was responsible for depositing the remains that we recovered."

Smiling at the looks on the faces of the students in the room as they sussed out what she was talking about, Vicky made her way over to the armchair occupied by her cousin slash sister-in-law Lily. Seeing the younger witch nod and smile, Vicky quickly transfigured it into a two-seater and plopped herself down in the other seat and sighed noisily.

"You are going to show me those tests, aren't you?" the first-year witch began without preamble.

Looking around, and seeing that her in-laws were giving her a moment to get settled before they began, Vicky smiled and leaned over to whisper her response.

"If you like, though I'm not an expert with them, so if you're interested in the theory behind them, I'll see if I can get Oxblood to explain them to you."

Pausing for a moment, Vicky watched Lily to see if she could tell if anything was prompting the question, other than the innate curiosity that seemed to be a hallmark of all the Potter/Weasley children. A faint flicker of … something in her eyes made Vicky a tad bit suspicious.

"What have you got hidden up those sleeves of yours?"

"I'll tell you later, but for right now it falls under the heading of 'contingency planning'," was Lily's whispered reply just as Hermione started speaking.

While it was a given that Rose would be asking her about any new magic that she heard tell of, the fact that Lily was asking about very advanced forensic spells was a bit odd, and the fact she seemed to possibly see a use for them was odder still. Closing her eyes and chuckling at the paranoid mindset she seemed to be acquiring as she continued her advocate's training, the voice of her aunt repeating one of her favorite muggle sayings echoed in the back of her mind.

And, Aunt Gabby was right. Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that someone's not out to get you.

"I'm just going to get to the heart of the matter," Hermione began, looking confidently over the room. Vicky already knew what was going to be said, and she could see the support in her eyes. The look on Lily's face gave her a bit of pause because she would be willing to wager a substantial amount that the youngest witch in the room 'knew' at least part of what was going to be announced.

"The first thing Harry and I would like to stress is that everything that's going to be discussed in this room is and will remain a secret at least until Wednesday next."

Letting her gaze linger on each of the individuals, she could see that she had definitely gotten their attention with that. Deciding that she needed to clarify one other thing, she held out a hand to prevent James' question that she could see he was putting together.

"What we're going to relate to you will be related to the rest of your cousins over the next week, but that doesn't give you license to discuss this since I'm not totally certain exactly what their parents are going to elect to tell them, so until this becomes public knowledge, We're going to insist that this remain within the family group here."

Seeing Rose removing her wand from the holster she wore strapped to her left arm, Harry smiled ruefully and stepped forward.

"Rosie, no need for an oath, you're all old enough to know that family business is family business."

Taking a deep breath, Rosie looked over at her mother for a moment before returning her attention back to Harry as she shook her head ever so slightly.

"Actually, Uncle Harry, I was about to say that if my father has bollixed things up as badly as I fear he has, I am prepared to swear an oath to House Potter and House Granger and sever all ties to that miserable excuse for a wizard and the sow that birthed him."

Rose's utterance of the word 'father' was filled with such loathing that all of the murmuring in the room stopped as every eye was locked upon her.

"Rosalie Jane …" Hermione began before she lapsed into silence. Looking over at Harry, who appeared to be more shocked than she was, Hermione waited until he looked up at her and gave her a slight nod to proceed before taking a deep breath and starting over in a much calmer manner.

"Rose, before anyone does anything or decides anything permanent, would you please do me the favor of just listening to the entire story?"

The fact that Hermione did nothing to contradict Rose's assertions wasn't lost on anyone in the room as Rose huffed and leaned back into her seat.

"Mum, go ahead. Though I can't imagine whatever it is you're going to tell us about that wizard and Ginevra is going to be worse than what I think you're going to tell us, but we might as well get it all out in the open."

Looking over to Harry, Hermione could see that he wanted to change and do the initial presentation, giving her a chance to concentrate on how Rose was going to take the revelations. Stepping to the side, Hermione moved to the end of the hearth where she could watch all of the children as Harry took her place in the center.

Catching Vicky's eye, she smiled faintly as the blonde witch nodded that she would keep a watch on Lily as Harry began.

"Last Sunday, while all of you were on your way to Hogwarts, the results of an investigation regarding leaks of information to various terrorist groups came to a head and four people were arrested."

Pausing for a moment, Harry could see by the looks on James and Rose's faces that they had jumped to the proper conclusion. Hugo and Al were both looking a bit confused, but they were waiting patiently for him to continue.

The look on Lily's face, however, gave him pause. It was the same look he remembered from Hermione's face the first time she saw Lucius Malfoy after their escape from Malfoy Manor during the Hunt, and it was the only time in their relationship that he was afraid he was going to have to restrain her. That same look was in the eyes of his daughter and it was very disconcerting to see on the face of an eleven year old.

"Two of the people were agents who were actively working with various criminal groups, most particularly the Order of the Path. Their names are familiar to you, I imagine, and I'm going to ask that you not mention this to anyone until the story is released Wednesday next when the indictments are unsealed. One of the two agents was Constantine Krum, the younger brother of Viktor, whom you all know."

Seeing the disappointed looks on their faces, especially the ones that were more quidditch obsessed, Harry steeled himself for what was coming next.

"The other agent, which I'm equally certain that all of you have heard of, is Pansy Parkinson …"

Whatever Harry was going to say next was totally overshadowed by Rose's outburst.

She sprang from her seat as if launched by one of her Uncle George's deluxe whoopee cushions with her wand in her hand and fire in her eyes.

"He's been shagging the bint Flora's mum?" she began as she looked around at Al. Seeing the sick look on his face, she started to say something when she collapsed back into her seat and started to shake her head violently back and forth.

Shocked out of his stupor, Al turned in his seat and took Rose's hands between his and tried to get her to calm down. Just as he was about to ask her if she was alright, he realized what she was muttering something and looked over at his sister Lily for help.

Gracefully standing, Lily leaned over to whisper in Vicky's ear before going to help her brother and cousin. Keeping her voice as soft as she could, she whispered, "Keep an eye on Hugo, in about ten seconds he's going to realize that Flora Parkinson is very likely a Weasley because of this, and if there's one witch in the school he absolutely loathes, it's her."

Turning on her heel, Lily made her way over to where Rose and Al were sitting, motioning for her father to continue.

"Well, yes," Harry began not quite certain how Rose made the leap from Krum and Parkinson being arrested and the affairs, but if there was anyone capable of it, it would be Hermione's daughter. The fact that his daughter was taking this so calmly was a trifle disconcerting, but moving forward seemed to be the best course.

"The other two arrested were Ron Weasley and Ginevra Potter," Harry continued. Holding up his hand, he sighed. "It seems that they were involved with the others and while they were together, Krum and Parkinson used those opportunities to access information and files of a sensitive nature."

"If by 'involved' you mean that my mother was shagging that washed-up, miserable excuse for a Chaser who couldn't even make the Cannons after he was cut by L'Etoile du Marseilles behind your back then just say so," Lily started as she put her arms around Rose and held the older girl in a warm embrace. Looking up at her father, and blushing a bit as his eyes widened in response to whatever it was he saw in hers, she sighed as she took a deep breath to continue.

"Daddy, you're not a stupid man. You're the Head of the Aurors Corps, for Merlin's sake. And Aunt Mi wouldn't let you be stupid if you were so inclined, so I'm going to cut to the chase with just two questions. Is my mother going to Azkaban because of her stupidity, and when are you and Aunt Mi kicking those two to the curb?"

Staring at his daughter in disbelief, which put him in pretty good company since everyone else in the room was staring at her also, Harry was totally gobsmacked that his eleven year old daughter was taking things this calmly.

Looking over at Hermione, who was staring back at him in disbelief, Harry exchanged a long look with her before making a gesture in her direction. As Hermione stepped in front of the fireplace, she reached over and gently squeezed Harry's hand before starting.

"Lily-bug, those are both very good questions, and I originally thought we would get to them in about an hour, but you seem to have grasped the particulars very quickly." Looking around at the rest of the children, she could see that James was totally gobsmacked; Rosie was calming down a bit with both Lily and Al whispering quietly to her. Hugo, on the other hand, was sitting there with a blank expression on his face, which was never a good sign,

Seeing that Vicky was getting up and moving over to where Hugo was sitting, Hermione smiled her thanks and continued.

"I'm going to take it from the looks on everyone's faces that we've all sussed out the basic details of what's been going on. In answer to Lily's first question, no one can say, at this point." Seeing the sharp look on the young witch's face, Hermione held up a hand in a, she hoped, calming manner.

"Right now, all four individuals are in the custody of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And while Harry and I are fairly high up in that particular department," she deadpanned, seeing the ghost of a smile on James' face which was what she was trying for, "once the initial cases were presented we have both stepped back a bit. My old boss, Mr. Carrenton, has consented to interrupting his retirement and will be heading up the trial matters for this mess and Merri's father Horace, who is senior among the various team commanders, will oversea any Auror participation in the ongoing investigations."

Pausing for a moment, Hermione looked and saw the cautious nod from Vicky that she was keeping an eye on Hugo before getting to what she and Harry considered the real heart of the matter.

"However, in the course of this investigation, several disturbing things were revealed." Hearing the disgusted snort coming from Rose, she rolled her eyes. "Poppet, there are worse things that could happen than what we've talked about already. And, unfortunately, we're going to have to discuss those before this is over with."

"I really don't see how this could get any worse," Hugo began, shocking his mother since he usually waited until everything was in before he commented on something that was upsetting him. While his sister would make her input known from start to finish, Hugo was more inclined to sit back, let the fireworks play themselves out, and then decide what he was going to do and act upon it.

"The only thing worse would be that that hoary old family joke Uncle George tried to prank us with that one time about Gramma Molly using a love potion on Grampa Arthur was true and the same happened…"

Trailing off at the look in his mother's eyes, Hugo's face went very pale and whispered, "Bat shit on a crumpet" loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Before his mother or sister could reprimand him, he held up his hand and said, "Sorry. Bat guano on a crumpet."

Intended or not, Hugo's self correction started everyone in the room laughing, even his mother who was still rather shocked that, once again, someone seemed to be sussing out everything that they had worried about how to break to them.

"Well, Hugo, thank you for summing up another topic of discussion so clearly. It seems that there were potions involved that winter when Harry and I returned from Australia with my parents, and those potions …" Trailing off, Hermione looked over at Harry about how he wanted her to present that particular facet.

Rose, however, had recovered enough to jump back into the fray. "Mother, I think what you're looking over at Uncle Harry for is a delicate way to phrase the fact that without that sow's interference none of us, except Vicky and Teddy of course, would be here. If that miserable excuse of a wizard hadn't used a potion on you, you never would have let him within five miles of your bed, correct?"

Shaking off her cousins, Rose jumped up and stormed up to her mother, fire in her eyes. "I've heard the stories, there's no way that Uncle Harry should have married that … that … that …"

"Bitch?" Lily chimed in sweetly from her seat, smiling broadly that Rosie seemed to have recovered her equilibrium enough to take her mum to task.

"Thanks, Lils." Turning back around to her mother, she shrugged. "She said it, I didn't. But Lily should know, so I'm going to go with that."

Seeing that her mother was watching her warily, Rose just rolled her eyes. "Mum, I'm the daughter of the Head of the DMLE. I'm the niece of the Chief of Aurors. My best friend's mum is the lead Unspeakable. My grandfather is a senior Ministry Department Head involved with law enforcement and the muggle world. My favorite brother is a junior team leader for Team Twelve and Blondie over there is training as an advocate which means I've been reading most of her class notes when she's done with them.

"I'm not an advocate by any means, but I know a bit of something about the law and I know what the penalties are for interfering with the heads of any of the 'Honorables'. The only thing I want to know is when I can have a pensieve memory of that sow being arrested for helping to potion you two, the Head of House Potter and the Head of House Granger. Because I am willing to swear a witch's oath that I will be content for the rest of my life with that as my most treasured possession."

Flashing Harry the universal female look that means 'a little help here' and getting back the universal male response 'she's your daughter, I got nothing', Hermione looked around the room and saw that the rest of the children were watching her and waiting for an answer. Since Vicky already knew the answer, one that she and Teddy had both vehemently disagreed with, Hermione took a deep breath.

"Harry and I, after discussing the entire thing with your grandfather Arthur, the Minister, Mr. Carrenton, and the parents of your Weasley cousins, decided that having your grandmother arrested would …"

"No! No! **No**! Don't you dare say that you're letting that sow off because you don't want to traumatize her grandchildren? That sow has traumatized every one of us; she loathes every female married into the Weasley family and has never made any attempt to hide it. She loathes Fleur because she's French and a Veela. And by extension she loathes Vick because she finally realized that there's no such thing as a half or quarter Veela, though being French would have been enough for that sow to hate her.

"She hates Audrey because she's American and part Native American. She hates Angelina because of the color of her skin. She hates Cho and Feilong, she's so blatant about it that Charlie has sworn the next time he'll step foot in The Burrow would be for her funeral."

Pausing for a moment, Rose took a deep breath and stared her mother straight in the eye and snarled, "And don't even try to deny that she doesn't drop the fact that you're a first generation witch into almost every conversation, most often making it an excuse as to why my good for nothing father couldn't make a go of it in the Auror Corps."

Shocked, Hermione was staring at her daughter when the voice of Al broke into the conversation.

"Aunt Hermione?"

Shaking herself and looking up, Hermione tried to smile reassuringly at the middle Potter child.

"Al, do you have something to add to Rosie's point?"

"Just a couple of questions. If someone filed a complaint that Lady Longbottom had used a love potion on Uncle Neville and Aunt Hannah, would you consider sweeping it under the rug because arresting her might upset Frankie and Al? Would you not look into a credible accusation that Minister Shacklebolt had imperiused Aunt Padma into marrying him because it might upset their daughter Kali? Would you take Scorp's feelings into account if you learned that his mother had been feeding his father love potions for over a decade?"

Staring at her nephew in disbelief, Hermione's mind raced in circles for a moment, only to be jerked back to reality by Harry's snickered, "I always thought Draco must have used a potion on Astoria. Who knew?"

"Harry, this isn't funny," Hermione snapped as she turned to glare at him. Seeing that look in his eyes that usually translated to 'busted', she shook her head.

"We agreed that it would be best for the children if that part of this wasn't made public."

"So it's better for us to know that you can do something as despicable as slipping someone illegal love potions and get away with it as long as they wind up preggers and have a child or two?" James, having finally come to grips with the fact that his mother had done everything he had feared, and more, decided to add his fire to the weight of the barrage that was being thrown.

"James, that's not the point. And now is not the time for you to start channeling your grandfather," Hermione said wearily as she closed her eyes. "I can see that this wasn't thought completely through, but our intentions were good."

"I'm certain that my father's mother thought her intentions were good when she dosed you two with a love potion. We're not exactly children, _Mother_," Rose replied, stressing the word 'Mother' as only a teenage girl could.

"Rosalie Jane, you'll be fourteen on your next birthday," Hermione began before flashbacks of a conversation with her mother and grandmother at age eleven started echoing in the back of her head when the subject of going to Hogwarts was first being discussed. Trying not to blush, she looked her daughter in the eye and smiled.

"And I remember exactly what happened when I used that same line on my mother, so if you will all sit down, Harry and I will explain what has happened, what we thought we had decided and why, and discuss with the entire family what we should do about it."

"No."

Turning her attention to Lily, who was standing there with a very determined look on her face, Hermione saw that, for whatever reason Harry's daughter had come to a point where she wasn't willing to compromise.

"Lily, you're saying we shouldn't discuss this?"

"We can talk about it from now until Ker-Is returns from the sea, but we shouldn't have anything to do with this decision. You said that your old boss was prosecuting this and Uncle Horace was taking charge of the auror part of this, so just let them do their jobs. Turn them loose on her. If they want to charge that woman for what she did to Grampa and you two, then fine. If they want to add the bit about the potions to what they're charging my mother and Rose's father with, then fine. But the Potter and Granger families should have nothing more to do with this than showing up in court like any other set of victims."

Turning to her father, she smirked as she said, "Daddy, you complain every time someone does something different because you're the bloody 'Wizard Who Won'. Just this once, just be my dad and let the others do what should be done."

"Everyone's going to know, Princess," Harry retorted, trying not to smile.

"Everyone already knows my mother's a …" Pausing for a moment as Hermione cleared her throat; Lily looked over at Rose and winked before turning back to her dad.

"Everyone knows that my mother's a first-class witch. Since you four were in school she and Uncle Ron have hidden behind the myth of 'The Golden Trio'. After everything they've done to the two of you, quit trying to protect them."

"At least, don't make it our fault you're protecting them," Al added. "I don't know how many times I've heard one of you two going on about choosing between 'right' and 'easy'. I don't think any of us are going to hold it against you if we don't have to worry about missing the annual rendition of "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love" during Christmas at the Burrow and having to listen to her talk about our aunts and cousins any longer."

"Or her going on about the fact that I'm an embarrassment to the family since I'm the first Weasley in Slytherin in eight centuries," Rose snarked.

"Rosie, you can always remind her that Cadmus Weasley was Headmaster of Hogwarts and received both the Order of Merlin and Order of the Magus from Richard the Second along with being a Slytherin," Lily suggested, eyes twinkling at the suspicious look in her cousin's eyes. "I found a journal at Potter Hall that mentions him; I was going to copy it for you for your birthday."

Standing up, James looked around and got a subtle not from the others, including Vickie. Stepping forward, he placed his hand on his sister's shoulder and held out his hand to both his father and his aunt.

"This is a family, and despite what some others have decided, those of us that are here should start acting like it. And that means we support each other. You and Aunt Mi can't protect us from everything, which is why you both have taught us to stick up for what was right. My mother tried to show me how to hide behind being a Potter; Aunt Mi and you showed me how to be one."

Pausing for a moment while the others murmured in agreement, James gently squeezed Lily's shoulder before finishing with, "Aunt Mi, you told me now was not the time to start channeling my grandfather James. I'll answer that with a question. What would Grandpa Alex tell me to do if I told him about someone hurting the family like this?"

Blushing at the probably responses from her mild-mannered dentist father, who was also a former Royal Marine, which is precisely they hadn't broken the news to either Alex or her mother Helen; Hermione conceded the point with a sigh.

"James, from what I've learned over the years, your grandfather James would have done the same thing as your grandfather Alex, he would have studied the situation carefully and then systematically and very thoroughly dealt with the problems to the fullest extent of his abilities. And, as the head of the DMLE, I would probably have found myself having to turn a blind eye to it because neither one would trust the system to handle it correctly."

Stepping forward and throwing her arms around her father, Lily hugged him before turning to her Aunt and smiling.

"This is like the story about the cat. It's kinder if it's all done at once rather than going back time after time and doing it piecemeal. You can't ease the family into this; we need to do this, get it behind us, and move on."

Looking up at Harry, and seeing that, in spite of the fact that this meeting didn't go like either of them had envisions and in spite of the fact that they had, apparently, totally misjudged their collective children's reactions to the revelations regarding the circumstances behind not only their marriages but the marriage of the elder Weasleys, he wasn't unhappy with how things had turned out. And, truth be told, neither was she.

"Well I think we can wrap this up. And since your Headmistress has excused the lot of you …"

"Hold on, Mum," Rose interrupted with a strange smile on her face. Exchanging a look with Lily, she nodded and then turned her attention back to her mother.

"If you and Harry will take a seat over where Vickie and Lily were sitting, there are a few more things that need to be cleared up before we're close to being finished today."

Giving her mother a 'no nonsense' look that Hermione recognized as something her daughter had inherited from both her and her mother, she flashed Harry a curious look as they went over to take their seats.

As the rest of the group subtly rearranged their seating so that while Rose and Lily standing in front of the fireplace were central, Harry and Hermione were definitely the center of everyone's attention.

Quelling her brother and cousins with just a look, Rose waited until everyone was quiet before putting her hands behind her back and fixing her uncle with a very serious look.

"Mr. Potter, exactly what are your intentions towards my mother?"


	14. You Can Call Me Al

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** Sounds as if the kids aren't quite finished with this discussion. Which is a shame since Harry was really looking forward to going to Diagon Alley and getting some ice cream._

_They have a new flavor, called 'The Harry Potter Universe and Everything Recognizable in it belongs to JK Rowling' Rocky Road._

_And while there's no one in the room that can be called Betty_ …__

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen – You Can Call Me Al<strong>

"Mr. Potter, exactly what are your intentions towards my mother?"

Harry had opened his mouth to answer when the actual content of the question finally caught up with his conscious mind. Hermione's surprised, "Rosalie Jane!" mostly covered the very unmanly "Eeep!" which managed to get past the gridlock his forebrain was currently experiencing.

The fact that he was doing flashbacks to second year with Rose doing a credible impression of her mother as a thirteen year old witch who was determined to keep him from stepping too far out of bounds didn't help, not at all. Blinking his eyes a couple of times, all he could come up with to possibly buy himself some time was, "What?"

Stepping forward, Rose plastered her best 'I'm all business here' look on and glared at him. "I'm very serious. My mother has been treated horribly by a wizard for the past thirty years and it's partially your fault. She's in a very fragile state, and I feel that it's a fair question to ask. Are you serious about doing the honorable thing regarding my mother or are you just another cad like my father?"

Ignoring her mother sputtering in indignation, especially regarding the 'fragile state' comment, Rose held Harry's gaze and refused to flinch. Bringing her hands from behind her back, she stepped forward and used her hand to punctuate her points. The impression that she was very willing to substitute her wand for her index finger didn't help Harry's peace of mind in the least.

"Do you plan on making an honest witch out of her? As the Heir Presumptive of House Granger, I feel that I have a duty and responsibility to address this." Pausing for a moment, Rose looked over at Hugo who was staring at her as if she had just sprouted a Dark Mark, before turning her attention back to the two adults.

"Especially since my mother has an abysmal track record with wizards, I really feel that the seven of us deserve to know where this is going."

Hermione's "Rosalie Jane," was interrupted as Harry placed a hand on her arm to quiet her. As she swung her attention to him, Harry chuckled and merely said, "She has a valid point."

Huffing in annoyance, Hermione crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. "Fine, play her game. Just don't look to me to fix it when she hands you your head on a platter."

As Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's "always the tone of disbelief", Harry turned his attention back to Rose and smiled.

"Miss Weasley …" Breaking off as Rose cleared her throat, he nodded and began again.

"Miss Granger, while I think your questions are valid and do merit discussion, I also think you've got your carriage in front of your thestrals since both your mother and I are still married. Things like that take time to resolve, even in situations like this." Pausing for a moment as he could see Rose winding up to start again, he held up a placating hand and smiled sadly.

"Though I will stipulate to one of the charges and plead 'Guilty' to being partially responsible for your mother being treated so shabbily over the years."

Turning his attention to Hermione, Harry took her hand and gently placed a kiss on the back of it. "Halloween our first year, you never should have faced that troll. I should have come after you right away and then told that pillock off. I never should have allowed him to treat you that way, never should have failed you the way I did far too many times."

"Nonsense, Harry," Hermione smirked. While she had warned him not to allow Rose to direct the conversation, she couldn't resist twitting him, just a bit. "While I wouldn't recommend it for either Rose or Lily to use as a benchmark for their relationships, nothing says 'I love you,' quite like jumping on the back of a twelve foot mountain troll and shoving your wand up his nose while the witch in question is having her life flash before her eyes."

"And that's exactly my point," Rose broke in, reclaiming both adults' attention. "Honestly, the witch will forgive you for almost anything, how are we to look out for her best interests if she's willing to turn a blind eye to you choosing my father over her time after time. What's next?"

Seeing her mother was about to interrupt, Rose shook her head. "It's our turn, missy. You're not going to play the 'mom' card and get out of this. You're finally back to being 'Ms Granger' and I'm not going to let you dive headfirst into another relationship without thinking it through, even if it is with the wizard you've been crushing on since you were twelve."

"As much as I hate to admit it," Hugo spoke up, refusing to flinch when both his mother and his sister glared at him, "she does have a point. Aunt Petunia's been worried about the two of you for years now, and the twins both think that Uncle Harry's tendency to ignore Mum isn't a good thing."

"Actually, he doesn't ignore her exactly," Victoire chimed in, causing every eye in the room to swivel in her direction. Blushing for a moment, she smiled at both Harry and Hermione before turning her attention back to Hugo.

"It's more a situation where they both 'know' that the other one is there for them, and so they're confident enough to know that the other understands. It hasn't always worked out, but it is part of the reason things ended up like they did."

"I thought that was the potions fault," James chimed in. Seeing the glare coming from his cousin, he held up a placating hand to Rose. "I'm not excusing my dad, mind you. But I do think that it's fair to take into consideration that the only wizard in the family more clueless about witches than my dad is Uncle Percy."

Scrunching up his face while his siblings and cousins chuckled about the total cluelessness of Percy Weasley, James turned and looked at Victoire. "A bit of legal help, sis?"

Smiling, Victoire rolled her eyes at James' antics. "Remember, I'm just a lowly trainee. I'm not an advocate or a barrister just yet and I'm not allowed to render a legal opinion on anything without a licensed barrister or advocate signing off on it." Looking over at Hermione who was chuckling at Victoire's disclaimer, she arched an eyebrow. "Correct, Director?"

"Correct, Ms Lupin. Though since I don't see anything controversial about what young James is going to ask you, as long as it falls under the heading of 'black letter law' I don't see any problems with you advising him." Pausing for a moment as Victoire turned back to James she added, "With or without a retainer."

Rolling his eyes at his aunt's penchant for having the last word, and sharing a look with his dad, he turned back to his older brother's wife, who had been a part of the family as long as he could remember. "You're safe since you were smart enough to marry into this circus, but after everything settles down, do we consider Percy and the others 'uncles'?" A very disturbing thought intruded as he added, "Or before she becomes my mum, is Aunt Mi still Aunt Mi, for that matter?" with a frown.

Smiling indulgently, Vicky chuckled. "You're not getting rid of us that easily. Though I'm your sister-in-law, I'll also still be your cousin. While a divorce is very difficult to obtain, the fraudulent circumstances that have been admitted to would render the Wizengamot's granting a declaration of divorce to both couples almost a certainty." Pausing for a moment as Rose noisily cleared her throat, Vicky noticed the intense look on the younger witch's face before she finished with, "and while I'm not an expert of Wizengamot politics, I can't imagine any member of the Wizengamot not voting to end a marriage like that, even the ones who really don't like your dad and aunt."

Looking over at Rose, who was shaking her head, Vicky sighed. "Though it seems that the junior member of the firm of Lupin & Granger seems to have a dissenting opinion."

"Keep this up, sis, and it's going to be Granger & Lupin, and you're not going to be allowed to handle family law," Rose snarked as she fixed her mother with a look. "And you should have seen this if I did, Mother."

"Rosalie Jane," Hermione cautioned, "what do you think you've got up those green trimmed sleeves of yours."

"Why thank you, Mummy," Rose cheerfully snarked as she brushed imaginary lint from the sleeves of her school robes. "If I mentioned the year 1203, what would come to mind in the current situation?"

Watching her daughter carefully, Hermione thought for a moment. Looking up and seeing that Vicky was trying to remember something, and capturing that with the fact that something was at the back her memory trying to come to the top, Hermione finally shrugged and said, "All right, I'll play your game. Since I know you're not referencing the founding of the Holyhead Harpies or the date the Temple in London starting to loan money to the English crown, what snitch have you got floating around that you want me to catch?"

Smiling at the look on Rose's face, she chuckled. "What? After being at the side of the 'youngest seeker in a century' for most of my life and the mother of the 'second youngest seeker in a century' you're surprised I might know a bit about quidditch?"

"All right, but that doesn't excuse either you or Blondie for not getting this," Rose cheerfully replied. "If I added in the names Lestrange, Longbottom and Prewitt, would that jog your memory?"

Before Hermione could do more than begin trying to draw connections between the three family names, much less add in a date over eight centuries past, Vicki's face went very pale and she started repeating "Shite, shite, shite, shite" over and over. Loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"Victoire Giselle, what would your mother say?" Hermione chided, still trying to suss out what the connection was that her daughter-in-law /niece found so troubling.

"Mum, she'd tell me to stop talking like a barbarian and swear like a proper French witch," Vicky shot back before rolling her eyes. "Merde!"

"Ah, finally figured it out, didn't you?" Smirking, Rose reached into her book bag and pulled out the folio of notes she had copied from the older witch. "If you need the exact citation?"

"Non, I remember it clearly now." Shaking her head, she sighed noisily. "And for the record, it's not family law, but succession law that's at stake here." Turning to Hermione, Vicky hesitated a bit. "I gave James bad advice, there's another issue here that takes precedence."

"What in Merlin's name …." Breaking off, Hermione face palmed, causing Harry slide closer to her. "Is everything ok? We're not stuck with them, are we?"

"Uncle Harry," Rose piped up to give her mother a moment to come to terms with what she just realized. "Actually, it's quite the opposite, and James's question has a bit of merit because according to a Wizengamot ruling in 1203 in the matter of a younger son of the Lestrange family using love potions to break up the betrothal of the heir of the Longbottom and the oldest daughter of the Prewitt family's patriarch in an attempt to usurp the family seat."

Pausing for a moment, Rose looked over to see that her cousin Lily was beaming as she had gotten the point without knowing the specifics and was overjoyed. Turning back to James, partially because his question had brought this to light and partially because she didn't want to be looking at her mother or uncle when she said it, she started chuckling.

"Wizarding law has always held that if potions or magical coercion were used to interfere with the succession of a titled seat in the Wizengamot, then that marriage was considered null and void when it came to light and any and all children resulting from the annulled marriages were part of the house that had been infringed upon. However, up until then, there was always a formal hearing of the Wizengamot and a symbolic unanimous vote taken. The Lestranges tried to get as much as they could out of the situation before the marriage was annulled, so Hannibal Lestrange married off his three daughters to the highest bidders before his parental rights were ended."

Pausing for a moment, she added, "The youngest of which was nine and she was turned over a scion of the Gaunt family for a 'suitable' bride price."

Finally breaking the shocked silence that followed that pronouncement, Harry coughed at got Rose's attention.

Seeing the look on her face, Harry sighed. "When?"

"Technically a case could be that it was official the moment that wizard's mother confessed, but certainly from the moment you and Mom discussed it with the Minister and Mr. Carrenton, but that's not the point."

Finally looking up and seeing the confused look on Harry's face, Hermione sighed noisily.

"Harry, not only did the Wizengamot pass a ruling making the annulment effective 'the moment the infringement is verified by competent authority,' they also, much to the delight of our daughters, ruled that the annulment was comprehensive and total."

"You were never married? She was never my mother?" Looking surprisingly thoughtful, Albus looked over at Vicky who nodded hesitantly.

"I don't have to wait," he continued. Seeing the puzzled look on everyone's face, Albus blushed and looked defiant.

"Since I knew they would object," and from the way he stressed 'they', there was no doubt he was referring to Ginny and Molly, "I had planned on sneaking out from school on my birthday and flooing to Gringotts to have my name officially changed."

The fact that 'Albus Severus' was the name chosen by Molly Weasley for the middle Potter child and had only become his name because Harry had been kept from getting to the hospital until after the parchmentwork was signed because he had been attending to a hostage situation down in the Channel Isles, Ginny having gone into labor almost a week early, was a badly kept family secret.

Harry had arrived back in London three hours after his son had been born and had been presented with the certificates that had already been filed with the Ministry and Gringotts. Realizing that he'd, essentially, have to go into the Wizengamot and throw around the power of being the Head of House of two of the most influential houses in the body, a practice which he hated, he decided to swallow his anger at having his son named after two men who Molly admired, partially for the sacrifices for the wizarding world, and partially it was now apparent for their part in the arranging of the two marriages that she had desired. This was in spite of the fact that both had added to the pain and suffering of the life of one Harry James Potter.

However, despite Harry's acceptance of it as a _fait accompli_, it had taken him several hours to talk Hermione down, once she had found out what Molly and Ginevra had done, and he had to physically take possession of her wand to keep her from hexing Ron when he pointed out that 'James Sirius' had taken the names from the Potter side of the family so it was only fair to let his sister and mother have their say since there wasn't anyone notable on Lily's side before her, since she was the first witch in the family, to name the boy after.

Looking defiant, Albus turned to Lily and chuckled. "You're the last one to be able to say anything, Lily Luna. You and James got all the good names. 'Albus Severus' is like being named after some character from a bloody historical novel or something out of Shakespeare that …"

Turning pale and swallowing the remainder of his rant, Al turned and faced his 'parents' with wide eyes. "That totally has nothing to do with your name, Aunt Mi."

"Al," Hermione began gently, all the while trying to keep Harry from laughing at his son, "I would be the last one to disagree with you. That was part of the reason I went ballistic the morning you were born." Pausing for a moment, she rolled her eyes and allowed herself a small chuckle. Seeing the hurt look on his face, she smiled reassuringly.

"I just remembered how prophetic my name turned out, being named for a little known character from a Shakespearean play that spends most of the time turned into a statue and I go and run head first into your father's basilisk my second year, I didn't want the same sort of doom hanging over your head."

Ignoring Hugo's "bad fashion sense and greasy hair?" that was stage whispered loud enough to be heard down in the Slytherin commons, Al took a deep breath. "I think it's that 'don't speak ill of the dead thing' going that no one comments too much, but even if they both weren't total tossers being named after two former headmasters is just a bit pretentious."

Seeing that his dad was trying not to chuckle in agreement, Al dialed up the Potter 'puppy dog eyes' that served so well on those few occasions he'd ended up in the Hospital Wing and asked Hermione, "So you'll take me to Gringotts after we're done here?"

Trying to look thoughtful, Hermione cocked her head to the side and looked back at him. "I suppose that it would depend upon what you were planning on changing your name to."

Seeing the indignant look on his face, she quickly held up her hand. "Al, I'm not trying to veto your choice, but if you're going to go to London to change your name to 'Stubby Ethelred' or something like that, I'd be tempted to say wait until a school holiday to give you sufficient time to consider it carefully.

While everyone was chuckling about Hermione's choice, pairing the names of Stubby Boardman, former front man for the wizarding group The Hobgoblins who Luna's father had continuously confused with Sirius Black, and Ethelred the Unready, one of the few muggle monarchs mentioned in the wizarding history chronicles, Al with a twinkle in his eye disturbingly like one of his namesakes, appeared to be considering her 'suggestion' thoughtfully.

Ignoring Harry's whispered, "Who's playing whose silly game?" Hermione waited until Al looked up and asked, "I'm sorry, Al. What were you considering? I suppose I should have known that you would have given this some thought."

"Well, since Osric Alexander is off the table," he began, alluding to a character from Hamlet and Hermione's father; he waited for a moment before continuing with "since Hugo had told me that particular story I was thinking Alexander Stephen."

Ignoring his father's snickering at the look on Hermione's face, Al shrugged. "Your father has been very supportive of me and Grandmother Lily's father was named Stephen, so it works on several levels."

Of course, Rose chimed in with, "Not to mention he's still 'Al' and he's such a cheapskate that anything monogrammed is safe since the initials are still the same."

"I could live with 'Stephen Alexander', but Grandpa Granger has always had time for me, so I thought it fitting," Al shot back. Turning his attention back to his 'parents', he smiled. "If it meets with your approval, of course?"

Swallowing to get past the lump in her throat, Hermione nodded her eyes bright. Harry smiled at his middle son as he patted her on the arm.

"Al, I think that your choice is a very good one. Your grandfather Alex is as fine a man as I've ever met and from what I've been able to find out, Stephen Evans was a very good man and I know your grandmother is very proud of both you and your choice." Pausing for a moment, he did snark, "even though we are distantly related to 'Ethelred the Ready', I think that we can safely go with your choices."

As the general murmuring regarding Al's choices went around the room, Harry turned and looked at Hermione for a couple of seconds. Seeing her agreement, accompanied by a roll of the eyes, but agreement nevertheless, Harry cleared his voice and held up his hand.

When the noises died down and everyone was looking at him, he looked at all of them and nodded to each one.

"Hermione and I are very proud of all of you. We were worried that this entire situation would pull the family apart, but you've all considered this carefully and weren't shy about expressing your opinions."

Waiting for the laughter to die down, Harry looked at Vickie and smiled. "I'll also apologize to Teddy later, but you two were right about things and we shouldn't have discounted your objections to what we had decided."

Turning back to the group, he glanced over at Rose and waited until she nodded before he continued.

"Since I have both Rose and Hermione's approval, as was going to be suggested earlier, I think that since the Headmistress has excused everyone for the rest of the day, why don't the eight of us retire to Diagon Alley. That way, Al can become Al at Gringotts, and after we all witness the necessary parchmentwork we can go celebrate with some ice cream."

Seeing the hopeful look on Al and Hugo's faces, Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry gentlemen, but I can't in good conscience expand the Headmistress' writ to your young ladies. Crystal, Lily, and Petunia will see both of you at dinner."

As the group moved towards the door, Hugo made a show of gallantly opening the door and motioning his cousin Lily through, which brought him face to face with the last witch he was either expecting or wanting to see.

Standing firmly in the doorway, a red-eyed Flora Parkinson was standing there, wringing her hands. Stunned by the appearance of the witch at the top of his 'People I Could Do Without' list, Hugo stepped back in shock and the rest of the crew stopped what they were doing.

Stepping forward, Flora stopped in front of Hermione, dropped down into a deep curtsey and lowered her head submissively as she intoned, "Lady Granger, I'm asking for sanctuary of House Granger, House Gaunt, House Black, and House Potter. The Parkinson's have ancient ties to House Black and House Gaunt, but I'm willing to repudiate the House of my birth for sanctuary and protection from the consequences of the sins of my family against yours."

The silence that followed was complete and total, only marred by Hugo hitting the ground with a thud.


	15. On The Path of Darkness

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** First the standard disclaimers apply. Everything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. _

_I also don't own any of the properties from the novel and movie, The Hunt for Red October. Those are owned by Tom Clancy, his corporate partners, and his ex-wife. The character mentioned in this chapter isn't based upon him, but his attitude about his name was taken from an individual who was a SMLM (Soviet Military Liaison Mission) officer I met in Germany back in the day who shared the same name as another character from one of Mr. Clancy's novels. _

_Not that I thought he was a Death Eater, but the look on his face whenever anyone mentioned the connection was one where I could see him cheerfully eviscerating the offender, and of course a RCAF Lieutenant decided it was her patriotic duty to mention it at least twice a day. Bonne chance, Lieutenant Marie Gagnon, wherever you are._

_Also, the Tahetorni Hotell does exist, or at least it did the last time I was there, and contrary to the assessment in this chapter, the menu is excellent. But Marko was correct about one thing, try the spaetzle it's very good._

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen – On the Path of Darkness<strong>

_1330 EEST* 4 September, 2019 – Tahetorni Hotell, Tallinn, Estonia_

Looking warily around the lobby, Pavel Dolohov nodded cautiously to his contact who was sitting in a chair in the lobby with a copy of the local muggle newspaper as he headed over to the entrance to the hotel's restaurant. As the older man rose from his chair and joined him, Pavel smiled thinly and greeted the older man who was dressed very comfortably, looking the picture of a muggle professor than rather than a member of one of the most radical Pureblood Supremacist groups in Europe.

As they waited for the hostess to seat them, Pavel almost snorted in amusement when the young girl did the inevitable double take when the Lithuanian wizard gave his name. Wondering how Marko hadn't become immune to the irony of sharing a name with a character from a muggle spy novel and movie over the past quarter century.

Following the girl to their assigned table, Pavel cast an appreciative glance at her, since she was very attractive despite the fact that she was a muggle. Too bad Marko would probably track her down and very messily deal with her, but that was his wont with any muggle that made the connection between Marko Ramius and the fictional muggle naval officer.

As they sat and accepted the menus, Pavel waited for Marko to settle down and surveyed the room. Giving an appreciative eye to a young blonde that was standing up front waiting to be seated; he shrugged when she was joined by a tall red-haired young man in a British Naval Officer's uniform. Deciding that their presence made English a bit risky for the conversation, he began in French, the only other acceptable language that Marko and he had in common, since the rabidly nationalistic Lithuanian vehemently refused to speak Russian, despite his fluency.

"Bonjour, my old friend," Pavel began as he perused the offerings the restaurant had to offer. "Dare I trust the wine list here?"

"They cater to Swedes and other trash here, so probably not," was the surly reply as Marko gave a glare at the British naval officer and his date that was seated several tables over.

"At least we don't have to worry about them, most of you English aren't linguists, and the ones that are are shortsighted enough that they'd refuse to listen in on the grounds that if it wasn't in English, it wouldn't be worth listening to." Snorting in contempt, Marko placed the menu on the table.

"Stick to the spaetzle," he advised. "It's something that they can't make too badly."

After the waiter had come and gone, and delivered a pair of local beers that Pavel decided was fairly decent after a cautious sip, he sat back in his chair and fixed Marko with a wary look.

"Lucius is now a guest of the Ministry, but you already know that."

Seeing the scowl on the other wizard's face, Pavel took a cautious sip of beer and waited for a moment. When nothing was forthcoming, he shrugged.

"Other than my name and a few anecdotes from my childhood, I know that almost everything Lucius 'knows' about me is false, I'm assuming he knows even less about you, correct?"

Seeing the amused look on Marko' face, Pavel chuckled. "I've gotten some discrete reports from third parties that I'd hired in the mundane world in Britain, the fire trap I left behind consumed four city blocks and is being blamed on an obscure terrorist group advocating independence for the Orkneys in the press there, so either the Ministry came up with someone to blame or they found evidence of this group in one of the burned out buildings and they conveniently became scapegoats."

Pausing for a moment, he chuckled when he added, "Though I imagine that there were a few red faces when the local constabulary issued a 'Person of Interest' bulletin for one 'Hermione Granger', since that was the name my agent used when she rented the storage unit years ago."

"Any chance your agent can be traced," Marko asked as the waiter returned with the salads. "I have no doubt that you've covered her tracks well enough for the beasts, but the Ministry will be searching high and low to find who had the temerity to implicate Potter's whore."

"Eh, if they manage to track her down, all they'll do is find a canvas wrapped skeleton in the deepest part of Loch Ness," Pavel replied with a smile on his face. "And if they do manage to trace the materials the body is wrapped in back, they'll find they were purchased by a very attractive blonde with a French accent who signed the receipt 'Fleur Weasley' with a Ministry issued card, so it traces back to them, once again."

Nodding grudgingly, Ramius turned his attention back to his food. After a moment or two, he quietly placed the silverware back on the table and waited until Dolohov looked up.

"How far does this set back our plans in England," he began. Seeing the exasperated look on Dolohov's face, he picked up the knife and pointed at him with it.

"Like it or not, England is still the only major player where we have an even chance of openly coming to power. The changes of the last twenty years have hurt our chances, but there's still a core of enlightened individuals who are receptive to righting the situation there." Closing his eyes for a moment, he sighed.

"We lost an opportunity back in the nineties. That pretender your father followed refused to listen to reason, an obvious instability caused by his less than pure blood …"

Staring at his companion in disbelief, Dolohov resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not willing to flee the country if the unstable wizard took offense. "With all due respect, Riddle's instability was a combination of the flaws in his maternal parentage, the Gaunt family had become mad as a convention of hatters by the 1930s, and the damage he did during his ill considered quest for immortality."

"I realize England doesn't have the sense of history that the older, more established cultures have …"

"Sense of history?" Staring incredulously at his companion, Dolohov silently counted to eleven in Russian to give himself a moment to gather his thoughts before saying something that would set the volatile man off. Taking a deep breath, he placed both of his hands flat on the table to better resist the urge to go for his wand.

"I really don't see how we can profit from comparing histories to try to find an excuse for failures. We compromised with the Crown during the Crusades; your Order is still fighting a war that began when the Teutonic Knights came riding out of the forests. Neither set of circumstances has anything to do with the fact that most European wizards see themselves as some sort of lapdogs to the muggles" Taking a deep breath, Pavel picked up his beer and took a deep pull before continuing.

"Your Order is being hunted here and throughout Europe. Those of us trying to keep the light that the Founder gave to us lit in England are being hunted by the Ministry, but we're hamstrung with a bunch of inbred fools who haven't realized that their wealth and family names won't protect them any longer.

"When Grindelwald failed, they retreated to their manors and told themselves that they would look for a new champion and try again. When the Dark Lord failed the first time, they paid their petty bribes, pled 'Innocent by reason of Imperius' and went back to their manors and told themselves that they'd look for a new champion and try again. Only a handful of the Inner Circle thought that He would return."

Slumping back in his chair, Pavel closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the icy glare from the wizard across the table from him. Taking several deep breaths, he shook himself for a moment and then opened his eyes and sat forward.

"Pardon, mon vieux," he began seeing that Ramius was angrier than he had ever seen him. "I meant no disrespect, but one of the reasons we're facing the problems we are is that people have reacted without thinking and now the forces arrayed against us are closing in."

Watching his companion intently, Marko toyed with the knife from the table, rolling it between his fingers as if it were his wand which he desperately wanted to draw. Not liking the younger man across from him, Marko viewed him as nothing but an opportunist, he realized that with the recent setbacks, Pavel Dolohov was, like it or not, his only real contact with the few like-minded individuals in Britain.

With the exception of the courier who transported the documents between Britain and Tallinn, and who was now useless since his only contacts were now in custody, it was deal with this arrogant mercenary or run the risk of travelling to Britain himself and cultivating new contacts within whatever would be left of the activist traditionalists.

"Your points are harsh, your manner abrasive, but you're also correct," Marko began begrudgingly. "Any additional intelligence from those two before they were captured?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the predictability of Marko since he had just dodged the bludger with the man's volatile temper, Pavel frowned.

"If there's anything in the pipeline, we'll have to wait another day at least for your people here in Tallinn to receive it. The courier has a set route that he can't deviate from without arousing suspicion." Pausing for a moment to allow Marko to digest that, he added, "And trust me, the last thing Carrenton is going to do is call undue attention to himself at this moment."

"I still don't know," Marko began gruffly. "I know that you've thoroughly vetted him, but I've never been comfortable with his blood connections to the current status quo you have there."

Smiling, Pavel shrugged in a very Gallic manner, a legacy from his mother along with his native fluency. "We have a very long tradition of younger sons seeking to atone for the failings of their families with regards to supporting the proper order of things. Archimedes has ample reasons to oppose his father's way of thinking. The fact that the old man is coming out of retirement to handle this mess that the Ministry is suddenly finding itself in …"

Breaking off, Pavel smiled cruelly. "Potter and Granger have only themselves to blame, they created their own nemeses, both personal and professional. That fact that the old man overlooked his own son for his older sister for the family seat, and then chose Granger as his protégé instead of his own son has created someone totally devoted to our cause."

"Bah, I'll trust your interpretation," Marko conceded grudgingly as he pushed back from the table. "I have no love for turncoats; it is too easy for them to turn again. I don't deal with him, I have someone who knows him from school that deals with him." Looking at Pavel for a long moment after he stood, he pushed his chair back in and shook his head as he turned and headed towards the exit.

Shaking his head in disbelief, once the volatile Lithuanian was out of the room, Pavel Dolohov picked up his beer and drained it in one pull. Casting a quick look around the room, he reached into his wallet and left enough money on the table to cover the bill and a modest gratuity, no sense wasting money on building goodwill with a waitress if Ramius was going to track down the girl and gut her later on but some gratuity was required so as not to draw suspicion and attention.

Nodding affably to the hostess as he exited the dining room, Pavel walked cheerily through the lobby, wondering if there was anything more to be gained from the now closed operation in Britain.

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><p><em><strong>*<strong> - EEST stands for Eastern European Summer Time – Daylight Savings Time along the sunny shores of the Baltic and 2 hours ahead of BST (British Summer Time), 3 hours ahead of Greenwich Mean Time. [Zulu plus three for those of you out there who went through some of the same training I did back in the day]._

_a/n 2 - edited on 10/8/2013 to fix continuity error. Called the younger Carrenton Alexander instead of Archimedes. Thanks for the catch!_


	16. The Mother of All Surprises

**The Phoenix Syndrome  
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><p><em><strong>an –** All righty now. Is everyone strapped in? Are your tray tables in the upright and locked positions because this might get a teeny bit bumpy? And the captain would like me to tell you that while we are cruising at 20,000 feet, someone named JK Rowling owns the entirety of the Harry Potter universe, the late Mr. Roddenberry owns the entirety of the Star Trek universe, and if you look out the windows on a right you'll be able to see a bloody big whale. And we should be landing in the state of total confusion in about 3800 words, more or less. And if anyone needs a modicum of brain bleach, please press the button on the armrest and a cabin attendant will be with you momentarily.  
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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen – The Mother of All Surprises<strong>

_Back in the Room of Requirement_

_As we left the room, last time:_

_Stepping forward, Flora stopped in front of Hermione, dropped down into a deep curtsey and lowered her head as she intoned, "Lady Granger, I'm asking for sanctuary of House Granger, House Gaunt, House Black, and House Potter. The Parkinson's have ancient ties to House Black and House Gaunt, but I'm willing to repudiate the House of my birth for sanctuary and protection from the consequences of the sins of my family against yours."_

_The silence that followed was complete and total, only marred by Hugo hitting the ground with a thud._

Hermione found herself in the uncomfortable, and though admittedly not totally unaccustomed in the past week, situation of having been caught flat-footed by the unexpected turn of events. Just as the entire mess was seemingly resolved, at least as far as the children were concerned, Ronald's past had shown up to complicate things.

Shown up in Hogwarts robes with Slytherin trim, no less.

"Miss Parkinson," she began, but quickly halted as the young witch turned and knelt at Hugo's side. As Flora reached her hand towards Hugo, it was slapped away by Rose, who glared at her from the Hugo's other side.

"You've done quite enough," Rose hissed through clenched teeth. "Just leave my brother alone."

"Our brother," Flora countered, with a strange expression on her face. "I didn't want to hurt him, but I didn't have leave to explain the why of it then."

As the two Slytherin witches seemed prepared to square off with Hugo, still unconscious, between them, Lily knelt beside Hugo's head and put and hand on each witch's arm.

"Ladies, we have enough problems without you two going at it," Lily said gently. Turning her attention to Rose, she smiled at her.

"Look at it from Flora's view, Rosie. She's been carrying around this burden and then Hugo, who's a decent bloke in spite of who his father is, tries to fix her up with a friend of his. There was no graceful or gentle way out; you know how Hugo gets when he wants something."

"Especially since she totally misunderstood me and thought I was asking my own sister out," Hugo said groggily as he lifted his head from the ground.

"Hugo, I'm so sorry," Flora began an intense blush on her face. "When you started talking, I just panicked. I thought you were asking me …"

"Yea, and now I know why asking you out would be like asking Rosie here," Hugo mumbled, trying not to blush. Shaking his head, he saw Rose glaring at the other Slytherin witch and he shook his head.

"Will you stop? I'm the one she verbally castrated in front of half the school. If I'm willing to chalk it up to a bad go on my part, you should at least be big sister enough to simply step back and take notes for the next time you want to embarrass me in front of everyone we know." Turning his attention back to Flora, who was staring at him in disbelief, he shrugged.

"Though, your little performance convinced Max that he was mistaken about wanting to get to know you better," referring to his friend Maxwell Wood who, lacking his father's intense focus on Quidditch, came off as a bit shy around the witches in their class.

"Max?" Looking gobsmacked, Flora finally rolled her eyes and sighed. "Hugo, you have my permission to hex me the next time I'm acting like my mother." Swinging her attention to Rose, who looked as if she were about to speak, she quipped, "That invitation's for Hugo here, I'm not about to give you a free shot at me any time you like."

Finding that there was nothing she could say in rebuttal to that that wouldn't make her sound unreasonable, Rose simply huffed in annoyance and looked up at her mother and Harry. Seeing that her mother was still observing the interactions between Hugo and Flora, she turned her attention to Harry as she stood and brushed the dust from her robes.

"Uncle … um Harry, since it's going to come off badly if I ask, shouldn't someone ask my …" Pausing for a moment as she turned the concept over in her head, Rose shook her head slightly and began again.

"Someone should ask my sister exactly what she meant by 'sins against the family' before we lose track of how this touching little scene started."

Resisting the urge to give Hermione a 'she's so you daughter' look, Harry nodded to Rose before turning his attention to the young witch who's entrance put a skid into the family's idea that they had come to terms with what had happened. Seeing that Flora had helped Hugo into a sitting position and both she and Lily were fussing over him, Harry resisted the urge to make a quip about the Dursley twins before clearing his throat and getting Flora's attention.

Seeing the look of apprehension in her eyes, Harry decided that setting the young witch at ease was the place to begin, so he took a couple of steps forward and knelt beside his nephew and extended his hand to the wary witch.

"Flora, I realize that there is a great deal of history between your mother …" Breaking off, Harry chuckled and grinned ruefully before he started again.

"Apparently there's a great deal of history between myself and both your parents, most of it dating to well before your birth."

"And a good deal of it related directly to my birth," Flora interrupted with a wry smile of her own. Turning her attention to Hermione, she held up her hand and smiled sadly.

"However, I overheard you say something last year at the Memorial service and if I'm going to honor the intent of my request I must correct one misconception Lord Potter has. You are very correct, my mother was deadly serious when she suggested turning him over to Voldemort during the Battle, and you need to ensure that he doesn't underestimate her. She's a hateful, hate-filled evil bitch who should have stood trial after the war."

Turning her attention back to Harry, who was staring at her in disbelief, as was both Rose and Hugo she could see out of the corner of her eye, she sighed. "Lord Potter, you're an honorable man and it's a credit to the heritage of your family and the influence of Lady Granger that you're not jaded and cynical after spending most of your life battling Evil, but you can't underestimate people like my mother."

Turning towards Al, she smiled shyly at him. "Al, what's that cheesy quote you used last month when you were joking about plotting revenge against Warrington in the library?"

Blinking his eyes a couple of time, Al blushed because he could have sworn that he and Frankie Longbottom were alone when he was going on about Warrington's transgressions before flashing Hermione an apologetic smile.

"It was a line from a film that Grandpa Alex loves, which was taken from book that Aunt Hermione loves," he began a bit nervously which wasn't helped by the hint of a scowl on Hermione's face.

"…_to the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee,_" Al quoted in a overly dramatic voice. Quirking an eyebrow at her, Al chuckled. "And for the record, it's not cheesy; it's from Melville's 'Moby Dick'. According to Aunt Mi, it's the definitive quote on obsessive hate and revenge at all costs."

"It's also my mother to a tee," Flora replied. "She's hated you lot since before she was sorted." Turning her attention to Hermione she nodded. "Especially you."

Seeing the surprised look on Hermione's face, Flora looked over at Lily and nodded towards Hugo. As the two witches helped him to his feet, Flora gestured back into the Room of Requirement.

"I know the family was leaving, but I really do think that this is something that should be discussed now, rather than later, and in as secure a location as possible."

As everyone else began trooping back into the room, a staring contest erupted between Rose and Flora as they both reached for the door to close and seal it.

As the standoff continued, with neither witch willing to give ground and let the other seal the room, Vickie launched herself up from her seat and stormed across the room.

"Merlin's wellies, will you two give it a rest," she ranted as she glared at both of them. "We get it, you're both locked in this death match, dominance duel to prove to the family which one of you is the true bad-ass Slytherin Witch of the family." Seeing the shocked look on both their faces, Vickie laughed at the identical looks on their faces.

"Sorry to break it to you, but regardless of how your personal pissing contest comes out, once the twins make an honest wizard out of Hugo, the crown for 'Bad-Ass Slytherin Witch' in the family will belong to Petunia for the foreseeable future, so the two of you might as well resign yourselves to being also-rans in the family scheme of things."

Smiling at Flora's muttered, "only because my mother will never be part of the family," Vickie waited until Rose had seated herself and Flora had moved to stand between Harry and Hermione before sealing the door.

As she moved back to her seat, she waved her hand airily and gave a cheerful, "Carry on," which elicited a chuckle from most of the group.

Taking a deep breath, Flora looked out over the group that was prepared to hear her out. Not only that, but she could see, at least on a few faces, expressions of genuine support. Lily, who was a bit of a cipher as far as the witches in Slytherin House were concerned other than her cousins, gave her a subtle thumbs up, which caused all of the uncomfortable rumors about the youngest Potter child being slightly fey and knowing more than she should to surface in her mind.

Shaking her head and deciding that it wouldn't really matter if the ginger witch 'knew' what she was going to say, Flora took another deep breath and began.

"First, I'd like to begin for apologizing to Hugo for overreacting in the Great Hall when I thought he was trying to ask me out." Turning to Hugo she dropped into a curtsey and inclined her head to him for a full ten seconds, causing both of the adults to stare.

As she stood back up, she smiled timidly at him. "Other than the knowledge that you're my brother, which even for House Parkinson is a bit too close a family connection for comfort, I couldn't risk it getting back to my mother and her lot that I was interested in any wizard other than the one she had ordained for me to seduce."

Seeing the look on Hugo's face, she smirked. "Hugo, even with the 'rumors' floating around about you and the twins," and everyone laughed when she made over the top air quotes for 'rumors', "that wouldn't have stopped my mother from interfering if she thought there was a chance I wouldn't follow through with her plans. I'm the fourth generation of the Parkinson family that has been trapped in my great-grandmother's obsession, and my mother was determined that I would fulfill Belladonna Parkinson nee Selwyn's obsession with the Potter family."

Turning her attention to Harry, she waited until he smiled at her before she began.

"Once upon a time, there was a fifth year Slytherin witch named Belladonna Selwyn who decided she was going to seduce and marry Charlus Potter, a fifth year prefect for Gryffindor House and the Heir of the Potter family. The fact that Sieur Potter hadn't spoken more than a handful of words to her outside of classes in their first four years was immaterial, she was a Selwyn witch and Selwyn witches always got what they wanted."

Raising an eyebrow at Hermione's "Thank Heavens it wasn't Umbridge" which was muttered just loud enough for the entire room to make out, Flora commented dryly, "And you seriously thought it was because of that idiot Fudge she hated Harry and Harry's mother," which caused Hermione to blink in surprise as she started running the events of their fifth year over in her mind.

"Family politics raised its ugly head, and in an attempt to bridge some of the gaps in the Wizengamot between the Rationalists faction, headed by the Potter family, and the Expansionists, headed by the Blacks, a betrothal contract was written between Charlus Potter and Dorea Black over the Christmas hols their fifth year."

Seeing the surprised look on Harry's face and the indignant one on Hermione's, Flora chuckled and gave Hermione an eye roll.

"The two of them had been cautiously exploring the limits of their friendship prior to that, it was only the power of the names of the two families that the rumor mill hadn't tumbled to the fact that the pair had been discovered a couple of times in a certain broom closet during their fourth year." Seeing the surprised look on Harry's face, Flora smiled wryly.

"From what I can discover, no one involved wanted to be on the bad side of both the Black and Potter families, especially since Dorea Black had 'Getting even is for rank amateurs' as a personal motto, and she had the skills in charms and potions to back that up."

"Merciful Heavens, George Weasley in Slytherin and a skirt," Vickie chortled as she tried to imagine what havoc Miss Black must have caused back then. Seeing the disbelieving look on James' face, she smirked.

"James, witches are always way more vindictive than wizards, and Uncle George has the typical Gryffindor noble streak in full. Imagine someone with his imagination, a full dose of Slytherin cunning, and much more vicious." James turned a bit pale as he tried to imagine some of his Slytherin classmates taking on his uncle's mantle. His imagination refused to consider what would happen if Rosie ever turned to the Dark.

"Well, yes, if we're through with James' naiveté," Flora remarked in an off-hand tone. "Let's get back to the story.

"Bella, as she was called by family and friends, made the mistake of going to Knockturn Alley to commission the creation of a potion to get the Potter heir into her clutches and her bed during the same hols. It never occurred to her that the Rationalists and the Expansionists would try to mend their fences, so she went to her usual shady apothecary of choice."

Pausing for a moment, she added dryly, "Who was affiliated with the Black family and very aware of what was going on."

Looking puzzled, Lily cocked her head to the side and stared at Flora, who seemed to sense the younger witch's attention and she nodded to her.

"Flora, not to sidetrack you, but I'm not certain I can imagine under what circumstances the Black family could be considered 'Expansionists'."

Looking puzzled, Flora's eyes unfocused as she tried to parse out Lily's confusion. Suddenly, she started chuckling and shook her head.

"Sorry about that. You have to remember that Wizengamot politics and policies are always framed from a Wizarding perspective. They were the 'Expansionists' in that they wanted to expand the ability of the Wizarding world to control the muggle. The 'Rationalists' wanted to 'rationally' deal with the muggles as almost equals. The third party at that time were the 'Isolationists', and they should be self explanatory."

Seeing Lily's nod and the thoughtful looks from the other, Flora picked up her narrative.

"One delivered batch of candied pineapple to Potter Hall was all it took for an emergency session of the Wizengamot to be called for Christmas Eve to deal with House Selwyn's attempt to invalidate a betrothal contract between two of the only five houses with more influence than them. The Wizengamot, even the allies of House Selwyn were definitely not amused considering that the ill-advised activities of a fifteen year old witch was robbing them all of family time on Christmas Eve and the Selwyn family had violated the first and most sacred rule of Wizengamot politics."

Pausing a moment, Flora turned her attention to Hermione to gauge the older witch's reaction as she continued. But, before she could, Rose chimed in with an amused tone, "And that would be, don't ever get caught."

"Precisely," Flora answered as she watched the surprised look on Hermione's face. "There are rules and laws, but the only one that matters is 'Don't get caught'. If you're not caught, even if everyone 'knows' you did it, it didn't really happen and life will go on."

"Let me guess," Harry chimed in, smiling approvingly at Flora. "The Selwyns got spanked hard by the Wizengamot, Charlus and Dorea got married, and dear sweet Bella swore undying revenge against the Potters."

Inclining her head to him, Flora held that pose for a full ten seconds before answering, "Very good, milord. Except instead of revenge she swore that her daughter or one of her granddaughters would 'reclaim' what was rightfully hers, a Potter heir. The four Selwyn daughters married into four different houses and they all produced daughters who were contemporaries of your father."

"And that was thoroughly scuttled by the appearance of Lily Evans on the scene," Hermione observed. Shaking her head, Hermione frowned. "But why did your mother show up attached to Draco?"

"Ah, that was my grandmother's addition to the plan. She was going to gain control of both the Blacks and the Potters through my mother. Mother was supposed to wrap Draco around her little finger, and then cuckold him with Harry before the Dark Lord could kill him. That way, she'd raise a Malfoy heir who could claim both family seats firmly under her control."

Seeing the blank stares from both of the adults, Flora shrugged. "When it comes to family seats, 'Blood will Tell'. A simple inheritance test after Draco either snuffs it in a tragic accident if the Dark Lord wins, or is sent to Azkaban and disenfranchised if he loses and she's the struggling widow who was either taken advantage of by the infamous Harry Potter or gave comfort and aid to the gallant hero, depending upon who won.

"The Dark Lord would have rewarded her for gaining control of two powerful houses if he won and she would be a power broker and minister-maker in a disorganized Ministry is he lost."

"And just when was she supposed to 'give comfort' to Harry?" Hermione asked in a very controlled voice.

"Actually, she couldn't get away from Draco long enough to do it while you and my father were down in the Chamber of Secrets looking for basilisk fangs and each other's tonsils, so she was going to 'volunteer' herself and Draco to escort Potter to the Dark Lord, which is why she suggested turning him over. As soon as they were out of sight she was going to snuff Draco, bind and shag Potter, and then obliviate him and turn him over to the Dark Lord's forces before anyone realized it."

Harry's "thank God she was going to obliviate me" elicited laughs from everyone except Hermione who was staring daggers at Flora.

"And that brings us to the present generation of Blacks and Potters. My mother's addition to the plan was to pair me with Al over there, and gain control of the family line that way."

Hearing James' "What am I, chopped liver?" she turned her attention to him. "No, you were going to be a casualty in a tragic quidditch accident. Mother had heard the story about Professor Quirrelmort's attempt during her first year and decided that she would cover her bets and have three different persons hexing your broom during a Gryffindor / Hufflepuff match after I'd snagged and shagged Al and gotten him under control."

Seeing that Al was about to say something, Flora blushed sighed. "A mild infatuation potion if I couldn't interest you the old fashioned way. Mother suggested surprising you, dragging you into a broom closet and having my way with you, but like your father during his school days you're very rarely alone and it was too risky so I was supposed to potion both you and Crystal to make this work."

Seeing the scowl on his face, Flora smiled apologetically. "Hey, it was my mother's plan, not mine. Trust me, if I would have been actively seeking you, I would have had a much better plan and you'd already be trying to think of ways to impress me. She was counting on Crystal inheriting her mother's rumored proclivities and being easily distracted so I could snag you that way."

"Wouldn't the fact that your father is Al's biological uncle have the potential to complicate things," Vickie asked, looking thoughtful. "It would seem that you'd run the risk of things coming out in a few years because of that."

"Actually, that was one of the reasons that mother took up with him," Flora answered hesitantly, as if she were loathe to go further with this part of the discussion.

"Other than the bonus points for sticking it to Lady Granger by shagging her husband, she wanted to reinforce the Prewitt genes since they lead back to the Selwyns also. And while the wizarding world doesn't make general use of muggle genetics, through magic the magical traits through maternal sources amplify and reinforce each other, as long as the two individuals don't share more than one grandparent between them."

"Well, that's obviously not the case here," Hermione began. "Molly and Arthur both show up as grandparents for you and Al."

"You're half correct, Lady Granger," Flora answered back. "While Ginevra Molly Weasley's birth was thought to be remarkable for being the first Weasley witch in generations, if anyone had looked into the actual family history, they would have realized that it should have been impossible."

Seeing the blank looks from everyone except for Lily who did a fist pump, she sighed.

"The curse on the Weasley family regarding the birth of witches ran for ten generations, through the generation of Arthur Weasley's children. He, like his fathers and uncles before him, was destined to only father sons, no matter how hard they tried. My father's generation, the eleventh, is having daughters in a big way, but Arthur Weasley only had sons."

"That's ridiculous," James blurted out. "While I obviously don't remember my mother being born, she obviously was so that would mean …" Trailing off as the implications of Flora's revelation sank in, he sunk back in his seat and closed his eyes.

"My mother isn't a Weasley, is she?"

"No, but if it's any consolation, until Al changes his name you're both named after one of your grandfathers.


	17. Curses! Foiled Again! – The Flashback

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen – Curses! Foiled Again! – The Flashback<strong>

_a/n – With apologies to Snidely Whiplash, but all of the things that you recognize from the Potterverse are the properties of JK Rowling and her corporate partners. And her discorporate ones, rumor has it that Binns was also a ghost writer on the project who wrote himself into the story. And yes, Canada will be safe!_

_And speaking of Hogwarts' resident ghost writer, if you want to see Binns in a light very different from anything I've ever read, take a look at Harry Crow by robst. The entire story is excellent, thus far, and the showdown between Harry and Binns comes in chapter 13. Read the entire story if you haven't, it's very good._

_And one thing for the canon hawks out there. Canon doesn't say that Arthur had a brother who died. Canon also doesn't say he didn't. Here, he does._

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><p><em>31 July, 1980 – The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole<em>

The kitchen of the Weasley family home, affectionately known as 'The Burrow' was quiet, despite the fact that it was home to six boys under the age of twelve. While moments of quiet were quite rare, the feeding of the newest addition to the Weasley clan tended to see a scattering of his older siblings, since Molly Weasley was never in a good mood while nursing her youngest. The others had quickly learned in the almost five months since he had come home from St. Mungo's that being anywhere in the vicinity of their mother when Ron began to nurse was a recipe for disaster.

Shaking her head, Molly couldn't understand how she could have quite handily managed to nurse twins, but couldn't keep up with her latest. Even before he started teething back in May, nursing Ronald was a painful experience. While she'd never admit it, or even mention it to another witch, but it always felt as if the baby was trying to get more than she could possibly produce, and at a faster rate than any of her other sons had ever managed. The mediwitch had already increased the dosage of the nutrient potion she was taking to supplement her for nursing twice, and if the tired and drained feelings didn't stop soon, she had promised she would again on her next visit.

As the infant's suckling began to slow, because Merlin knows he never actually stopped, there was a knock at the back door. Curious as to who it could be, and in these dangerous days with the forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on the prowl, the wards around the property had been strengthened so she was only moderately concerned, she carefully placed Ron in the portable cot that sat on the bench beside the table and with a quick pass of her wand adjusted everything making herself presentable to answer the door.

As she opened the door, Molly stared in disbelief. Two of her aunts were standing on the back stoop, impatiently awaiting an invitation to enter the house. While she had a moderate bit of contact with her uncle Othniel's wife Daturia, this was the first time she had been face to face with Belladonna Parkinson, her mother's infamous oldest sister since she had started school.

"Well met," Daturia began without preamble. "We've news to discuss and plans to make. May we enter?"

Not waiting for an answer, Daturia stepped forward, clearly presuming that Molly would have no problem with them entering The Burrow. As she fell back, both witches entered, though Belladonna gave her a very appraising look that left her feeling wanting.

As they moved into the kitchen, Ron began to get fussy in his cot, and as Molly moved to quiet him, Daturia watched as she picked up the infant.

"Aye, he's big enough," Daturia began. "It'll be easy enough to wean him so you can start again for a daughter."

Staring at her in disbelief, Molly cradled the fussy infant to her as she sat. Indicating the bench across from her with a nod, she waited until both of the older witches were seating before responding.

"Arthur and I aren't planning on any more," she began carefully. "Six is more than enough, and it wouldn't do us any good. I may have granddaughters in my future, but a daughter isn't in the cards for me," she finished, with more than a trace of bitterness in her voice.

"And when you came to me during your sixth year for assistance landing the wizard you'd decided would be yours, I told you that there would be a price, a daughter to redress the wrong done to the family." Pausing for a moment, she stared at Molly very intently before adding, in a voice that brooked no arguments, "And you agreed."

"That was before I knew of the curse," Molly hotly replied. "The lack of Weasley witches was an oddity; no one mentioned that there was a curse on the family that ran through Arthur's generation that prevented a witch from being born into the family."

Speaking for the first time, Belladonna drawled in an offhand manner. "That curse prevents Arthur from siring a daughter. It has no effect upon your ability to conceive one."

Staring in disbelief, Molly tried to parse out some meaning to what the older witch had said, other than the glaringly obvious. "Don't be ridiculous," she began hotly. "I'm the wife of a …"

"Yes, you're the 'wife' of the head of a minor house which doesn't currently hold its seat in the Wizengamot, so the birth of a seventh child would be subject to almost no scrutiny." Pausing for a moment, Belladonna added in a cold voice, "Especially a daughter since after providing for six sons any potential suitor for the chit's hand wouldn't be in it for the dowry."

"But the Potter family …" Molly began, only to be cut off by Daturia.

"Saw the birth of a son early this morning, as did the Longbottom family a few minutes earlier."

Seeing the shocked look on Molly's face, Daturia went on to explain that her contacts at St. Mungo's had informed her that an heir to the Potter family was born moments after midnight, not five minutes after the Longbottom heir was born in an adjacent birthing suite as soon as they could.

"You know the requirements, other members are approaching witches in four other households regarding the need for daughters to snare the Potter heir," Daturia finished up.

"This is impossible; I'm a married witch, for Merlin's sake"

"A witch who married the head of an Old and Honorable House of the Wizengamot, even though your husband doesn't currently control the seat," Belladonna responded in a tone that brooked no argument. "And you know the penalties as well as I do regarding using a potion to ensnare a Head of House. Or his heir."

"Arthur wasn't the heir, his older brother was when we announced our banns," Molly hotly protested. Left unsaid was the fact that Arthur's older twin was the heir when Molly administered the potion she had obtained with Daturia's help all those years ago.

"But he was the heir when you married him, and the potion was in his system and active then, as it is now therefore the guilt is yours. The penalties for getting caught trying to do that are painful. The penalties for actually doing that and getting caught are … severe," Belladonna added in a tone that would have never led anyone to guess that she knew of the penalties, first hand.

"This is wrong," Molly began but stopped when she saw the look in Belladonna's eyes.

"So is asking for the help of the Selwyn's and expecting to avoid paying the agreed upon price."

"And I agreed …"

"That your daughter would be raised to be a match for the Potter heir, and we're here to see you fulfill your word," Daturia interjected smoothly. "Nothing was said indicating who the chit's father would be, only that you would be the mother."

"You knew?" Realization in Molly's eyes was quickly replaced by horror.

"Of course we knew. If you'd been half as smart as your thought you were, you would have known you were promising a daughter for the chance to marry a wizard who couldn't sire one on you."

Reaching into the pocket of her robes, Daturia removed a leather bound tome that had been shrunk down to fit in her palm. Placing it on the table, she tapped it twice and it rapidly expanded to a musty old book, well over eight inches thick.

"We've cast the runes and looked at the possibilities," Belladonna began as Daturia began turning the pages of the old tome. "As long as we give no one a reason to look closely at the chit, no one will. So she only needs to match the expectations people would have of the daughter of the Weasleys."

Seeing the glare that Molly was giving her sister, Daturia shook her head and clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "Molly dear, you always were a willful child. We've thought out who the father is going to be, when it's going to happen, and how you're going to explain it to your husband and family." Smiling sweetly at her niece, her grey eyes twinkling, she added, "Just leave this to us. Your part in this is simple, and well within your capabilities."

"To match what would be Arthur's contribution to the chit's magical signature, we'll need a wizard who would be heir to one of the Olds," Belladonna began, using the common name for the second tier houses of the Wizengamot, the 'Old and Honorables'. Not as prestigious or powerful as the 'Ancient and Honorables', they were a healthy step up from the 'Honorables' the newly gentrified houses. Although 'newly' was a relative term since a house couldn't even be considered for 'Old and Honorable' status until after a dozen generations had passed since they were ennobled.

"However, we also need one who's been barred from inheriting, since if she's ever tested at Gringotts it wouldn't do to have her show up in the succession for a House that wasn't House Weasley," Belladonna added. Turning to Daturia, she shrugged.

"Yes, the one you chose should be fine," Daturia replied with a satisfied smile. "And the fact that we have a way to hide this and gain some revenge on the Potters only adds to the suitability."

"Agatha is certain that he was barred from his family's holdings on the mother's side, the father was a muggle, so he doesn't factor. There will be no inconvenient revelations should she be tested at Gringotts or the Ministry since her sire is without a claim. We can add a bit of Molly's husband's blood to the fertility potion to ensure a witch was conceived so she'll show as eligible for a dowry from the Weasleys."

"I'm right here," Molly muttered under her breath as she glared at the pair who were deciding her fate without paying her any mind whatsoever.

Seeing both of them look up at her, she blushed. "And exactly how am I supposed to garner the attention of this wizard you've decided to put out to stud? It's not as if it's a secret that I'm a married witch. If I conceive a daughter nine months after sleeping with him, even one of the Flint boys would be able to figure it out."

"Yes, but since he's not going to be 'sleeping' with Molly Esmeralda Weasley nee Prewett, as far as he knows, then that won't matter to him in the least," Belladonna remarked snidely, looking over at her sister and giving her a knowing look. "Though if our young wizard were to suspect that he had gotten a child on his paramour, then that will cause questions to be asked, so we'll have to make sure she convinces him she's protected."

"That soon after the birth of a child, he'll never consider it, he's a man after all," Daturia replied.

Reaching into her robes, she removed a pair of potions flasks, a silver salver, and a silver athame. Laying them upon the table, she made a pass over them with her wand to ensure that they were free of all contaminations and influences.

Looking at the items on her table with trepidation, Molly shrank back and eyed the pair warily. "Just who are you planning on fathering this child and whom am I going to be to make him go along with it?"

Belladonna smiled knowingly as she reached into her robes and removed a sealed glass sphere. The sphere reflected the sunlight streaming through The Burrow's open windows with a curious blue tinge, which told Molly that the sphere had been sealed with a stasis charm.

Balanced on the older witch's palm, Molly stared a very stylish and expensive hairbrush that had a number of long red hairs trapped in it. A stylish and expensive hairbrush that had a family crest inlaid upon the back of it. Molly recognized the crossed wand and sword and didn't need to read the motto beneath them to know exactly whose hairs were in that brush.

"My source at the hospital was able to acquire a bit more than just information about the births of two young wizards," Belladonna began. "Using the best time for the potions to ensure the conception of a witch, young Severus Snape, disowned member of the Prince family since his mother so foolishly married a muggle, will have a one-time assignation with his longtime love Lily Potter on Halloween at a Halloween Masque.

"He'll be invited to attend the ball at Parkinson Manor and while there he'll be approached by a tearful young woman who will tell him of the horrible mistake she made marrying his nemesis. She'll intimate that a potion was involved to get her consent to the marriage and this is the only time she'll be able to consummate her deep and all-consuming passion for her one true love, Severus Tobias Snape.

Seeing that Molly was totally gobsmacked by this, Belladonna huffed and turned to her sister. After Daturia hit Molly with a discrete stinging hex to snap her out of her shocked state, she continued.

"The young man will have been given a drink with the potions part of a two stage lust potion in it. Since it'll be tied to a perfume you and you alone will be wearing that night, there will be a room for your 'reunion' where you'll have the privacy to ensure you return home with a child."

"But, I can't. I won't. I'm a married witch …" Molly began before Belladonna slammed her hand down on the table with a thunderous crack, startling Ronald into crying.

"Hush that mewling brat before I do," Belladonna said in a voice that was almost a growl. As Molly picked up the infant and cradled him in her arms, she stared at both witches in disbelief.

"You can and you will. You have no choice in the matter. You agreed to give us a daughter for the Cause, and you will."

Trying to appeal to her niece in a reasonable tone, but about two seconds from hexing the whining witch, Daturia said gently, "Think of it as a good deed, Molly. You'll be able to give Arthur a daughter. Young Severus will finally have his revenge upon his rival and the woman of his dreams, if only for a couple of hours. And you," she continued with a sharper tone of voice, "will have a daughter, possibly a rich son-in-law one day, and will be able to keep your freedom and your magic so just suck it up and do as you're told."

Shrinking back, Molly thought furiously about her options, which were truly limited at this juncture. She had no doubt that her two aunts, both daughters of House Selwyn, would scruple at little to finally bring the Potter family to heel. The only thing missing was a way to humiliate House Black in this, since it was a daughter of the Blacks that Charlus Potter chose.

"How will I explain to my …" Breaking off, she shook her head. "How will I explain to Arthur that he fathered a daughter?"

"Very simple, my dear," Belladonna purred in a satisfied tone. "You'll simple credit it to magic. You knew his desire for a daughter, so you went to the Selwyn family and found out there was a potion that would allow you to conceive a daughter since Arthur is the last generation of the curse. You didn't tell him about it before hand since it's not a certain thing, but once you're safely pregnant, you'll break the joyous news to your loving husband regarding the birth of your daughter next summer."

"And if he asks …."

"For Circe's sake, there is such a potion which we would have provided if you had done your duty and came to us. But since you tried to default …"

"There's a potion that would set aside the curse?"

"Not exactly," Daturia admitted. "But since Arthur's the final generation of the curse, and he essentially was his older twin's 'heir', the potion would make the curse 'see' Arthur as the generation after since he 'inherited' from his brother who would have been the final generation in the primary line."

"It would have been easier if he'd simply taken you to the continent or someplace else, but the Weasleys stayed put and decided to ride the curse out."

Seeing the confused look on Molly's face, Daturia shrugged. "The wording of the curse was that 'no Weasley in England' would have a daughter until ten generations had passed. If Arthur had fled to Canada during the last war, he could have had daughters coming out of his ears."

Overwhelmed, Molly sat quietly for a few moments, gently rocking Ronald back to sleep in her arms. When the snoring finally started, she gently laid him back in his cot and placed her hands on the table.

"What must I do?"

Closing the tome and shrinking it back down to size, Daturia smiled knowingly as she picked up the athame. "Simply a few drops of blood from both you and Arthur." Seeing the look on Molly's face, she chuckled. "We've thought of that."

Belladonna pulled a small object from her robes and placed it on the table. Tapping it once with her wand, she waited until it returned to its normal size before turning around to show Molly that it was a clock. A peculiar clock.

Instead of numerals around its face, the small ovals spaced around its face were labeled 'Home', 'Work', 'Travelling', 'School', 'Diagon Alley', 'The Village', et cetera. Ominously, the oval where the eleven would be was labeled 'In Mortal Peril'.

"It's a family clock. The hands are stored within the base. You key the hands to each member of the family by soaking each one overnight in a 'Finding Lost Items' potion with three drops of the person's blood added during the brewing process. Your skills are up to brewing it, so you'll have plenty to do over the next few weeks keying it to your family."

"Draw some extra blood from yourself and Arthur," Belladonna continued smoothly. "Place the extra from both in these vials, casting a stasis spell on them to keep them viable. Daturia will be back next week to collect them from you, so don't dawdle."

As both witches stood up, leaving Molly sitting there staring at the athame and the vials, they looked at each other and shook their heads.

As they turned to move towards the door, the movement roused Molly from her reverie and she hurriedly stood and moved towards the back door to see them out.

As the two descended the steps, they strode quickly to the back gate and the property line. As soon as they were clear, Daturia sighed noisily.

"Think she can pull it off?"

"She'll do it or she'll lose her magic," was Belladonna's offhand reply, indicating she really didn't care one way or the other. "If she can manage a daughter, a Weasley witch would be well positioned to be noticed by the Potters …"

"Lily Potter was good friends with the Lovegood wife," Daturia countered. "While both are muggleborn, the fact that Aranrhod's daughter is scheduled to be born in September adds a complication to the situation."

"We'll deal with her when the time comes," was Belladonna's terse reply.

"Though if this doesn't work, I did receive a response back from Constance," Daturia countered. "She's just conceived, but she promised to have another as soon as possible if it's a boy."

"Never thought much of her choice," Belladonna chuckled. "Hiram Vane was never much of a wizard."

"True, but Constance is dedicated and has him wrapped around her little finger. She'll have her witchling's head so stuffed full of 'Harry Potter' that the chit will be picking out a wedding dress for her first day at Hogwarts."

* * *

><p><em>The Halloween Masque, Parkinson Manor, 31 October, 1980<em>

Dressed in his trademark black, Severus Tobias Snape was wondering why Madam Lestrange and Madam Parkinson were both so insistent that he attend this … event.

Looking around the room, he could see the various couples, costumed and masked in keeping with the party's theme, moving around the room, engaging in the ages old game of 'see and be seen'. Given his situation, the last thing he wanted to do was be around happy couples.

Jumping and turning around with his wand to hand, Severus blushed to see it was his hostess, Lady Belladonna Parkinson standing there, with a wicked smile on her face. Seeing the masked and veiled figure beside her, Severus steeled himself for what he was assuming to be the onerous duty of squiring around some brainless bint at the request of one of the senior Death Eaters.

Drawing himself up, he nodded civilly to the pair. "Good evening Lady Parkinson," he began in his smooth drawl. "I thank you for insisting I come tonight."

A bald-faced lie, but a necessary one considering who her husband was.

"Severus, I'm hoping you'll truly mean that by the time the evening's over," Belladonna replied smoothly. "I have a young friend here who needs to speak to you in private."

Turning slightly, the older witch simply said "Aspen?"

A female house-elf, dressed in a tabard with the Parkinson crest on it, appeared.

"Please escort Mr. Snape and my guest to the Green Room," she said in a matter of fact voice. "Close and seal the doors and see that they're not disturbed."

As she turned and left Severus standing there beside the veiled witch, he took a few calming breaths before nodding jerkily to the elf. He failed to notice that his attention was being drawn much more to the witch beside him as they followed the elf up a flight of stairs and down a long corridor.

As the elf opened the door to what was obviously a guest room, he stepped inside and stared at the room before turning around when he heard the door shut behind him.

As he opened his mouth to demand exactly what was going on, he stopped, flabbergasted by what he saw.

Standing before him, dressed in black, was Lily Potter, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Sev," she began with a tremor in her voice. "I made a mistake."

* * *

><p><em>an2 – And while a scene with Severus and Molly requires a modicum of brain bleach, it's not nearly the amount that would be required by a tryst between Albus and Molly.  
><em>

_While my recent story 'A Peculiar Logic' was well received, some of the reviews reminded me of two things. One is that I'm probably older than at least 85% of the people reading my stories. And the second is that my definition of 'pop culture' is different that most folks, so I'll explain the author's note at the beginning of this chapter._

_The title of this chapter comes from the favorite line of one Snidely Whiplash. Snidely Whiplash was a reoccurring villain whose nemesis was RCMP Dudley Do-Right on the old Rocky and Bullwinkle Show (This requires a serious trip in the old Way Back Machine). Since the Dudley Do-Right scenes were done as a parody of the old serials, the end of each episode had a narrator asking questions that would be answered in the next installment. And since Dudley was a Canadian Mountie, 'Will Canada ever be safe?' was a constant question._

_And now you know._


	18. The Other Shoe – Now Dropping at a

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

* * *

><p><em><strong>an –** As exciting as that little flashback was, there are some other things that need clarifying before we duck back into the Room of Requirement._

_And speaking of a requirement, does anyone really need reminding that JKR is the sole owner of anything Harry Potter, her and her 1 percenter lackies (Does that make her a tenth of a percenter?)_

_An additional disclaimer - It's not my fault that the Marvel Avenger's universe decided to take the name of the British Intelligence section that deals with wizarding threats and use it for its own nefarious purposes. You think MI6 is scary, don't ever get on the wrong side of MI13.  
><em>

_And now, let's skip back to a dining room in a quiet hotel in Estonia …_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen – The Other Shoe – Now Dropping at a Hotel Near You<strong>

_Meanwhile, at table 24_

Sitting back in her chair as the waitress left the table, Mercy Hendrecks folded her hands primly in her lap and stared patiently at her dining companion. Seeing the cheeky grin on his face as he carefully polished off the last of his rosolje, the local version of potato salad or aardappelsalade as her grandmother Fijkje would call it, Mercy rolled her eyes and chuckled.

"Dafydd, you really need to stop being such an arse," she said affectionately as she reached over and placed her hand on the back of his. Seeing the arched eyebrow, she tried to smother another laugh.

"You live here, you have access to food like this all the time," Dafydd groused as he squeezed his sister-in-law's hand and sat back. "And the cuisine at the Embassy is first rate if you're suddenly tired of eating out or cooking for yourself." Frowning for a moment, he shook himself a bit and then grinned.

"You're correct, of course. It's just that the cooking on the Tywysog is so bloody awful. Leave it to the Admiralty to round up the worst bunch of cooks in the entire Fleet and stick them on one ship."

"And the cooking on the bloody big ship of yours is going to be the last thing you'll be worrying about if that commodore of yours ever hears you call her 'Tywysog' in public." Shaking her head, Mercy gave him one of her longsuffering looks. "You know the government's very touchy on that subject right now given the fact that the debates over independence are heating up. I'm still amazed that the Admiralty assigned a card carrying Plaid to His Majesty's latest carrier, the Prince of Wales."

Group Captain Dafydd Owen Jones, commander of His Majesty's air group aboard His newest aircraft carrier, the HMS Price of Wales, chuckled at the irony that only in England could the assignment of an officer from Wales to a ship named after the former sovereign of that country and now the title held by the next in line to the throne be considered controversial. Of course, since the title 'King of Scots' had been incorporated into the Crown itself and the Royal Navy had never seen fit to name a ship after either James the Third or Bonnie Prince Charlie the Scots serving the Fleet had been spared this bit of distraction.

But, then again a Jacobite finding himself captain of HMS Dundee might find him or herself feeling just a bit out of place.

"Mercy lass, my captain is walking on eggshells around the Admiralty trying to get us safely out to sea and with the Fleet before something else can go wrong. Bess has been on station down in the Med for the better part of two years now; they'd really like it for my boys and girls to be ready here in the Baltic before something blows up hereabouts." Taking a pull from the beer stein in front of him, he shrugged.

"My cultural proclivities aside bach, I'm just too damn good at what I do for Captain Jellicoe to do more than dream about shipping me off. And she'd rather cut off her starboard teat that send me off to Bessy, which is the only other duty station since even the First Sea Lord isn't daft enough to chain me to a desk longer than it takes to sign my warrant accepting my new orders."

Smiling at the image of his very straight-laced and slightly puritanical commander's reaction to his characterization, though she had no doubt that the highly competitive woman would prefer self-mutilation to sending the commander of her air group to the other carrier in the fleet, HMS Queen Elizabeth affectionately known to her crew as the 'Iron Bess'. Mercy chuckled and took a sip of her beer.

"Oi Dafydd, your Plaid is still showing. Keep slipping up like that and you'll be calling your wingman a 'trog'. And I seem to remember she kicked your ruddy arse three straight games in handball the last time you did that."

"Rhi's a trog and she knows it. She grew up in the Caerphilly," Dayfdd said dismissively. "She's as much a terror on the court as she is with that Lightning, which is very good for our airgroup."

"While you grew up with Snowdon just outside your back door," Mercy rejoined. Looking around for a moment and seeing that no one was paying much attention to them, she switched tracks.

"Since you won't be making the run from London for my sweet tooth any longer, any ideas on whom I can get to pick up decent biscuits for me?"

Smiling, Dafydd leaned over and flipped up the leather flap of the battered old messenger bag he'd placed on the floor beside his chair back when he first sat down. Reaching in, his hand grabbed the metallic container and drew it forth with a flourish.

The lights of the restaurant glistened on the red and gold metal tin of Walker's Shortbread Biscuits as it rested innocently on the table. Seeing his sister-in-law's arched eyebrow, he smirked.

"Oh, ye of little faith. I'm not a Sassenach to leave a damsel in distress. And you'll be happy that I spoke to a friend of Arielle's. She's a cousin to some classmates of the lovebirds; somehow she ended up with orders assigning her to Embassy Courier duty. Ms Jones would be more than happy to assuage your love of biscuits."

As Dafydd pushed the tin across, Mercy could feel the power coming from the protections on the simple tin of cookies. Placing her fingertips lightly upon the shiny enameled surface, she felt the brief flicker of … regret that sometimes accompanied those occasions when she was confronted with the magic that was her family's heritage, one that she had been born without. As that crazy American pilot who was assigned as an attaché up the street would say she was "close but no ceegar" in his over the top Georgia drawl.

Not that anyone in the family had ever dwelt on it, Mercy accepted the fact that the curse from one of Tom Riddle's insane terrorists that had struck her mother when she was pregnant with Mercy had severed the connection to her magical core and left her classified as a 'squib'. The fact that her magical core was just as powerful as any of her aunts or cousins left her able to see, feel, touch, and as she found out one time, taste magic, simply not wield it, was something she'd come to terms with years ago.

Which made Mercy Hendrecks, the youngest child of Jan Hendrecks and Chloe Hendrecks nee Greengrass, the logical person for His Majesty's Diplomatic Service to choose as a liaison not only between the inquisitive parts of His Majesty's government and the people they wished to find things out from in places like Estonia, but also as a person who could straddle the line between the magical and mundane governments.

Since she was the child of a long line of witches and wizards on both sides of her family, one of her mother's forefathers had been one of the seven wizard barons who had refused to pressure the King into signing the Magna Carta while her father's several greats grandmother had advised the Prince of Orange, William III, who was coincidentally also the King of England and disputed King of Scots, to not sign the Statutes of Secrecy, she had an understanding of the magical world that very few outsiders did, but she was effectively beneath the magical radar.

Especially in this case where if any of the pureblood supremacists running around were aware of her family connections, she would be 'beneath' their notice as a squib.

Sometimes, prejudices were a useful thing.

"You'll still be in the area, though," Mercy asked. Truly fond of her brother-in-law, while she didn't always see eye to eye with her brother's wife Arielle, Dafydd and she had struck up a close friendship during her brother's whirlwind courtship after they both had left Hogwarts.

Still not certain how two people could spend seven years living together in a boarding school and not even know the other person's name, Arielle and Jan had both ended up working for the same small company after they left school and literally 'met' on their first day of work. They went from an initial conversation of "You're that Hufflepuff girl who fell off her chair in the library during OWLS week" / "You're the one from Ravenclaw who blew up a cauldron second year" to announcing to their families on Christmas Day that they'd gotten married the night before in just a bit over three months.

This had brought Dafydd Owen Jones into her life.

Sliding the tin towards her, Mercy placed it in the oversized purse she carried, slipping it into the special section of the purse that was charmed to be not noticeable and obscure the presence and magical signature of anything placed within. The entire thing was charmed to always weight the same, a harmless charm that was permitted and something a squib would have ready access to through her family, which helped disguise the fact that there were other enchantments on the bag.

Smiling at him, she sighed. "As much fun as this is, I really must be hurrying along," she began. Seeing his face go grim she sighed. "I told you I was meeting someone this afternoon when you called, so there's no need for that."

Quickly looking around, Dafydd leaned closer, lowering his voice but not whispering since nothing screams 'I've got a secret' more than whispering, he said "You can't still trust him, can you?"

"I can trust Archie just as far now as I could when he was growing up back in Greenwich or when he was in school with our siblings," Mercy sighed. "Archie can be counted on to do what's in his best interest first last and always. That hasn't changed since he was four and I sincerely doubt it ever will."

Pausing for a moment, she smiled sadly at him and reached over to pat his hand gently. "Archie's been at this long enough to know the rules, and the rules say that as long as I've taken the proper precautions I'm the safest person in the world as far as he's concerned because if something unexpected or strange were to befall me, there isn't a hole deep enough for him to hide in." Chuckling as she could see the frustration in his eyes, she smiled encouragingly at him.

"My biggest problem is if I were to run into anyone from the family while I'm meeting with him."

Standing, she waited until Dafydd placed enough money on the table to cover the bill and walked quietly by his side as they exited. Passing through the lobby in companionable silence, she waited until they were out on the street before finishing.

"Can you imagine the inquisition I'd be in for if anyone from the family saw me in the company of Archimedes Carrenton? Mum would be picking out floral arrangements before I could say anything at all."

Bidding her brother-in-law a fond farewell, Mercy headed over to the taxi stand and caught the eye of one of the drivers who was gathered nearby. Seeing his enthusiastic nod, she got comfortable in the back seat as she gave him the address to the hotel on Viru Street in the center of Old Tallinn where her next meeting was to take place.

As the taxi driver wound his way through the town, Mercy chuckled at the reaction Dafydd had had the last time they took a cab together. From the way he reacted, you'd think that the taxis here in Tallinn were worse than the ones back in dear old London, Edinburgh, or Merlin forbid Rome. Shaking her head at the irony that a man whose career was predicated upon doing insane and lethal things faster than the speed of sound two miles above the ocean would be unnerved riding in the back of an old Volvo heading for the cinema on a quiet Wednesday evening.

As they pulled up in front of the Vana Wiru, she generously paid and tipped the driver as the doorman gallantly opened the door for her. Thanking him as she exited the cab, she walked through the entranceway and made her way into the hotel.

Striding into the place as if she belonged, and truth be told this was hardly the first time she had come here since she had been assigned here in Tallinn, she spotted her target lounging against the railing of the upper level, talking to someone she didn't recognize. As she climbed the stairs, she could hear that her old childhood friend had gotten roped into a conversation regarding the current football season and the prospects in the English Premier League. Shaking her head, she stepped up beside him and deftly slipped her arm around him.

"None of that," she chided gently as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Looking at the older man who was dressed as the typical British tourist trying to not look like a tourist, she cheekily grinned. "I'm certain that Archie will love to discuss his undying devotion to Manchester after I've gone back to work, but right now …"

Trailing off as the man began to blush and apologize; she waved him off with an airy wave of her hand and began dragging Archie, who still hadn't spoken a word since she attached herself to his side, towards the lifts.

Leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, she whispered, "Pretend I didn't make your reservations you arse and tell me what floor and try to act like you're happy to see me and about to get very lucky" as she placed a kiss near his ear.

Visibly starting, Archimedes Carrenton shook himself and began babbling. Mentioning that they had a suite on the top floor, he absentmindedly punched the button for the top floor as they entered the lift. Going on about the details of his trip, which sounded suspiciously like what he'd told her last month, they exited the lift and headed down the corridor to their room.

As Archie opened the door to their room, Mercy was pulling out a small compact from her bag and checking her makeup. She was also using the one side of the device which was equipped by her colleagues at MI6 to check the room for electronic monitoring devices. Flipping over the compact and opening up the other side, she used the enchanted mirror in it to look for magical monitoring runes, spells or objects, courtesy of her colleagues in MI13.

Giving the main room a pass, but reminding herself she needed to sweep the bath and the bedroom, she leaned back against the leather davenport and sighed.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? What the hell are you thinking?"

"Just because you're out on the town with that sailor, you needn't swear like one," Archie replied acerbically. "Do you even know who you were sitting not twenty feet from at lunch?"

Blinking in surprise, not only from the tone in his voice when mentioning Dafydd but also that he had managed to observer her, and apparently rather closely, during lunch without her being aware of it, Mercy held up a hand trying to calm him down.

"Archie, just take a deep breath. I know that Dolohov was in the room, surprised the heck out of me, but other than activate a rune on my bag to make me less than memorable there wasn't anything out of the ordinary that went on until well after he and his companion departed."

"Companion?" Staring at her in disbelief, Archie ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "That was bloody Ramius, the butcher of Kaunas. If he'd suspected …"

Breaking off, Archie closed his eyes and took a couple of deep, shuddering breaths. "You're going to be the death of me, you do realize that."

Moving over to him, Mercy put her arms around him and embraced him. "Archie, I'm a big girl and I'm your handler. I'm the one who's supposed to be getting grey hairs worrying, not you. This is almost over."

Taking him by the hand, Mercy led him over to the bar and poured them both about three fingers of Scotch, neat. Seeing him nod appreciatively at the Blair Athol label, she handed him his tumbler and took as sip.

As the single malt soothed her nerves, she chuckled. "The operation in Britain is well and truly buggered, Dolohov has to know that. Unless they can find some additional idiots willing to court a death sentence and some other noble idiot willing to risk everything on the idiocy of blood supremacy, you're going to just have to go back to being a bitter arse who's annoyed with his father by picking up totally inappropriate women in dive bars and running up horrendous hotel bills and sticking him with the tab."

"That was only the once, and most of it got blamed on that muggle band who was staying in the suite across the hall."

"Archie, it took the Muggleworthy Excuse boffins a week to straighten out the spells you cast getting the hotel staff to bill your tab to AC-DC's suite. The only thing that saved you was the fact that everyone who'd been in there that week was so stoned that they couldn't say where they'd been or with whom."

"Well you try sleeping through 'Back in Bloody Black' every night," he groused.

"Sound proofing charms?"

"The Sanderson has a house mage, if I'd started casting soundproofing charms it'd given me away."

Closing her eyes for a second, Mercy thought back to the list she'd seen of wizards and witches working for ostensibly muggle establishments. Smiling brightly she chuckled.

"That should have been Carolyn, she was a Puff in my brother's year and like most of the Badgers she never met a party that she couldn't crash. She was probably in the suite with the band."

Seeing the incredulous look on his face, she winked at him. "Just because I'm a squib …"

"How can you be so bloody calm? That was Bloody Ramius. Even the people on his side worry about him snapping and killing everyone simply because someone makes a cinema joke."

"And unless you personally cross him, he pretty much keeps his predilections in check. He's a professional, and he's not going to go out of his way to attract attention to himself by attacking a pair of muggles in a crowded muggle restaurant."

Huffing in disbelief, Archie leaned back into the cushions and closed his eyes.

"You know your father's taking first chair on this mess back in London," she began in a conversational tone. Seeing that he arched his eyebrow, but kept his eyes closed, she chuckled.

"Neither one of them knows about your involvement, and neither one will know. I gave you my word when you first came to me. And that means something."

"Potter's going to want to know," he replied. "His wife is up to her teats in this and that witch isn't close to being sane."

"But she knows nothing, less than nothing most likely. Dolohov's so cautious he makes you look like a giddy schoolgirl," Mercy replied. "I haven't looked at any of the evidence back in London, but I'd guess that every public lead they have will trace back to a name of someone from the Ministry, someone with a connection to Potter most likely which will all lead to dead ends." Pausing for a moment, she shuddered a bit as she added, "Literally in most cases."

"This isn't how I envisioned this working out," Archie groused as he massaged his temples, trying to relieve the headache he had. "When Dolohov approached me …"

"You thought this was a chance to show your father what you were made of, that you were every bit as competent and trustworthy as Hermione Bloody Granger," Mercy said in a low voice as she scooted over and, after moving his fingers out of the way, began gently massaging his temples.

"It might have taken us years to tumble to this, and you handed it to the Ministry wrapped in a bow on a silver salver."

"There's something big coming," Archie whispered as he leaned back into her touch. "Dolohov's been increasingly distracted, and he's worried more than dealing with Ramius would warrant."

"I thought we determined he's simply a mercenary …"

"He is, but while he isn't fanatical, he does believe in all that blood nonsense. He simply won't stick himself out on a limb for it." Pausing for a moment, he added, "But he'll stick someone out there even if he doesn't feel they can succeed."

"Sounds like the handlers the KGB had working at the end of the Cold War," Mercy mused, thinking aloud. "Most of them could spout the Party line with the best of them, but they certainly loved all of the trappings of the 'decadent west' that they used for cover."

"This is different," Archie replied, a smile on his face as the tension began to melt. "He'll point anything and anyone in the direction of the Ministry as long as they have the potential to do harm and he can't be traced. This was his first major vulnerability; both Krum and Parkinson can get them closer to him than anyone has in years and dear old Lucius …"

"Yes, even without Veritaserum he's singing like a phoenix on its burning day." Letting her hands gently move down from his temples, she began massaging the tense muscles in his neck.

"All in all, it might be time for you to come in," she said in a conversational tone, arching an eyebrow as he tensed in response to her suggestion. "You knew that it would eventually come to that. Eventually we'd have to roll them all up and bring an end to this circus."

"I'm not certain I'm quite ready for Peri and dear old dad to possibly change their opinion of me," he quipped. "It's rather refreshing being the outcast who drags the family name through the metaphorical mud."

"Your sister would welcome you back with open arms. Periktone Carrenton isn't quite the vapid bint you paint her as."

"She doesn't hate your guts for inscribing her full name in three foot high letters on the roof of the Great Hall the night she was receiving the Quidditch Cup. She'd convinced McGonagall to have her name on the cup as 'Peri' and I thought it would be only proper that her true name was honored." Pausing for a moment, striking a haughty pose, he gave her an aristocratic sneer and drawled.

"It's a fine old family name that goes back …."

"Yes, I've heard it a million times. Old family name. Plato's grandmother, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera."

Popping up from the davenport, Mercy grabbed his hand and began pulling him up to his feet. Seeing the look on his face, she chuckled and gave him a saucy wink.

"I said you were going to 'get lucky', can't have me breaking cover by sending you down to dinner looking less than well shagged, can I?"

"Mercy …" Breaking off he wrapped his arm around her waist as they headed towards the bedroom. "I thought we decided last time that we weren't going to …"

"You decided. I decided that if I was good enough to shag senseless back when you were in school on the hols and Hogsmeade weekends, then I'm still good enough, despite your reputation as a callow, stuck-up, purebred arse."

"I do have a set of papers for you to copy before I deliver them day after tomorrow ..." He said trailing off as they passed through the bedroom door.

"You talk entirely too much," she breathed in a husky whisper as she wrapped her arms around him and slammed the door with a wandless, nonverbal thought.

* * *

><p><em>an2 - And for those of you below the age of reading an 'M' rated fic, they're playing canasta in there. Yes, that's it, canasta. Two handed canasta. Being shagged senseless is simply a euphemism for playing canasta._

_That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.  
><em>

_a/n3 - updated on 17 September with minor corrections with all thanks and gratitude to Alix33. Once again, thanks very much!  
><em>

_a/n4 - updated on 18 September to fix continuity error. Called Archimedes 'Alex' instead of 'Archie'. As was pointed out, a bit Freudian in a chapter discussing the younger Dolohov. Especially since I traditionally name Hermione's father Alex, all sorts of badness there.  
><em>


	19. Sorting out the Unsortable

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** Welcome back. I apologize for taking so long with this, but this chapter seemed to resist coming to light._

_As always, all of the rights pertaining to the Harry Potter universe are the property of JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners._

_There are a few things alluded to in this chapter that will be explored in more detail later. And for those wondering if there's ever going to be any harmony in this story, it's looming on the horizon, just be patient._

_Also, the observation has been made that Harry might be a bit OOC in this chapter. There are things that Harry finds important, and his upbringing, or lack thereof, has had a great impact on him. His motivations can be summed up by the last line._

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><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen – Sorting out the Unsortable<strong>

_Back in the Room of Requirement - One Last Time_

_As we left the room, last time:_

_"That's ridiculous," James blurted out. "While I don't remember being born, I must have so that would mean …" Trailing off as the implications of Flora's revelation sunk him, he sunk back in his seat and closed his eyes._

_"My mother isn't a Weasley, is she?"_

_"No, but if it's any consolation, until Al changes his name you're both named after one of your grandfathers."_

Holding up her hand, and noisily clearing her throat, Hermione waited until all of the children were looking at her before stepping over to where Flora was standing.

Seeing that the young witch was balanced on the knife's edge of 'fight or flight', Hermione slowly spread her hands out, leaving the choice entirely up to the young woman.

"Flora, on behalf of House Granger, I bid you welcome. Hearth and home I offer thee. Shelter from the storms, safe harbor from the trials. Freely offered, freely bestowed, the bonds of family, magic, and honor we offer thee and bid thee welcome," Hermione intoned, reciting the traditional form for bringing someone under the aegis of the House's protections.

Startled, Flora stared at her in disbelief. "The most I was hoping for …" Breaking off, she shook her head. "I'm willing to swear fealty, become a vassal of the house."

"Nonsense," Harry said in a tone that brooked no arguments. "You're not responsible for the sins of your parents, and you're family to this lot." Holding up his hand and stopping her as she said, "But I'm not, I'm just …" he shook his head firmly.

"You are a child of House Potter and House Granger just like anyone else in the room. You share blood with my children and Hermione's." Pausing for a second and looking over to see the hesitant nod from Rose and the smile on Lily's face, he chuckled.

"Of course, if you really don't want to take us up on our offer and have to explain to Rose and Lily why you're turning us down …"

"Merlin, no. Anything but that," Flora joked. Turning around, though, she surveyed the room. "I won't if anyone has an issue with me. I know that my … parents aren't the most popular people at the moment."

James snickered and shook his head. "Seriously? Considering who my mother is? Not to mention my grandmother. If anyone's getting cast out because of their parents then the whole lot of us with the exception of Teddy and Vick are getting tossed out on our arses."

Looking up at his aunt/stepmother/surrogate mom/mother, he grinned. "I know, 'language'."

"James Sirius Potter," Hermione began wearily. "Try not to give the poor girl too poor an impression of the family until she says 'yes'."

Turning back around, Flora stood a bit straighter. "If you really mean it …" Seeing the look on Hermione's face, she blushed.

Rose came up and put her hand gently on Flora's shoulder. "As one Slytherin to another, suggesting that the Director of the DMLE is in the habit of saying things she doesn't mean, while being very Gryffindorish and will probably appeal to Harry's sense of the absurd, isn't something you should do very often. I'll warn you right now, there's never any question about where you stand with her."

Smirking at the look her mother was giving her, Rose chuckled. "See? Right now I know that she's a bit put out at me for jumping in, but she's secretly glad that I'm making an attempt to 'play nice' with the newest member of this circus we laughingly call a family."

Turning to Harry, Rose smiled and winked. "Though, I think we're going to have to check with the Headmistress and make an exception to the earlier statement about who's going to Diagon Alley since Parkin …." Breaking off, she shook her head and blushed. "Very sorry, since Flora here will need to go to Gringotts and the Ministry to sort out all of the changes." Looking over at Vickie, she smirked. "Correct, Advocate Lupin?"

"Correct, Miss Granger," Vickie replied. "Though, with our contacts at the Ministry, we should be able to walk this through rather quickly." Looking over at Harry, she shrugged. "While we don't need their permissions, it would save a step of two if I could indicate that her soon to be former parents were notified that their daughter was being given sanctuary by House Granger."

Looking at Hermione, Harry raised an eyebrow, causing her to roll her eyes in response. Subtly shrugging, she smiled as Harry suddenly adopted a 'why me' expression and turned back to Vickie.

"Short straw?" she snarked.

"Something like that," Harry replied. "It's more which one of us was more likely to get through a conversation with Flora's soon to be ex-mother without resorting to physical violence."

"Right, Scorp's da is a good precedent," Vickie nodded in agreement. Turning back to Hermione, who was glaring at her, she chuckled. "I'll help you get this lot to London while Harry goes to Wales."

"May I speak to Flora for a moment," Harry asked in a serious manner. Seeing the surprised look on her face, he looked at Hermione. "You and Vickie take the rest of the crew down to the Headmistress' office and head for Gringotts. I'll be down in a moment and send Flora through before I go to the Ministry," Harry said knowing that the only access to Caer Sidi was through a handful of heavily restricted and guarded floo connections, the easiest one to access without causing comment.

As the others exited the room, and every one of them stopping and greeting Flora, Harry kissed Hermione on the cheek and whispered in her ear, "any bets on whether Ron knows he has a second daughter," and chuckled at the look on her face.

As the door closed behind her, Flora stared at him apprehensively. Motioning for her to sit, Harry waited until the young witch perched herself on a chair and noticed that she kept her feet beneath her so that she could be up and moving very quickly.

"Flora," he began hesitantly, "did your mother ever …"

"Did my mother ever tell my father that he was my father?" With an incredulous look on her face, she sighed.

"She was very vocal about my 'father's' shortcomings, including his incredible lack of perception. Apparently it never occurred to him that when the witch he was shagging on a regular basis turns up pregnant, he might be the father," she said scornfully. "At least that ponce Malfoy …"

Trailing off, she watched Harry apprehensively.

"I believe you were going to say that at least Lucius Malfoy had the foresight to determine he wasn't your father when he discovered your mother was pregnant, correct?"

Blushing, she lowered her head and whispered, "Yes."

"You're not your mother," Harry began in a reassuring tone. "No one in the family thinks you're your mother."

"Before," she whispered, not raising her head. "Before I was suspect …"

"Because you were acting like your mother," Harry gently supplied. "I'll admit, it's not one of the more admirable Potter traits, but we tend to take people at face value until we're given a reason not to."

Seeing the look on his face, he chuckled. "When I was in Hogwarts, things between Slytherin and Gryffindor were very tense. I'll admit that I didn't give a whole lot of thought to the members of your house who acted as if they were Junior Death Eaters or were part of Scorpius' father's clique." Smiling sheepishly at her, he shrugged.

"There really wasn't any way to determine what they were really thinking, so if they acted like Junior Death Eaters …"

"The safest thing was to treat them that way," Flora finished.

"Yes, but there were also the neutrals, the ones like Greengrass and Davis. They kept their heads down, kept their distance. I understood why they didn't want to make waves and stick out by sticking up for a Gryffindor, and I didn't hold it against them or treat them like I treated Draco and company."

"Scorpius has approached me a few times," she began in a tentative voice. Seeing the look on Harry's face, she grimaced. "Apparently his mum listens to the stories he brings home and she's concerned that I'll …"

"That you'll follow in your mother's footsteps?" Harry asked quietly. Seeing the cautious nod, Harry smiled. "I didn't know Astoria at all, and her older sister was a very interesting enigma, but both of them have been very forthright and helpful since the war, as has the entire Greengrass family."

Waving her hand in dismissal, Flora huffed in annoyance. "That lot? Holidays at Greengrass Manor are like a staff meeting at St. Mungo's I've heard tell." Pausing for a moment, she looked at Harry sharply.

"You didn't pull me aside to find out whether that idiot knows I exist, did you?"

"Actually, that was a valid question," Harry began as he smiled warmly at her. "But the other reason is that I wanted you to start thinking about something."

Seeing the wary look in her eyes, Harry held up both hands. "Nothing sinister, no marriage contracts lurking in the wings or anything of that sort."

"Then what?" she asked, watching him carefully.

"Hermione has offered you sanctuary with House Granger, and while House Potter would be willing to reciprocate, once things have settled down and the spotlight isn't on you we both feel that we could up the ante for you."

"I'm afraid I don't …" Breaking off as the pieces fell together, she paled and stared at him in disbelief. "I don't deserve …"

"Flora, none of us 'deserve' the family that we're born into," Harry began. "We're going to be making changes left, right, and center in the coming months, and if you decide at some point you'd like more of a connection to us, both Hermione and I would be more than willing to discuss formally making you a daughter of either house."

Chuckling for a second, Harry added, "Or both depending upon what happens."

"Why?" Shaking her head and staring at Harry as if he'd just grown a second head, she blinked her eyes a couple of time before continuing.

"Merlin's wellies, you're giving that harridan exactly what she wanted. You're playing right into the hands of those sick bitches who have schemed and plotted since your grandfather's day. Are you insane or just a Gryffindor?"

Taken aback for a moment, Harry rolled his eyes at her response. "Flora, I don't think I've ever heard it put in exactly those terms, but we're both very serious about this."

Holding up his hand to forestall another rant, he was suddenly very serious. "The offer is irrespective of the 'what' of your mother's family's plots and plans. If Hermione is moved to offer you sanctuary within her family, then the logical outcome would for you to eventually join this family. If you were an adult, it would be different."

Seeing that 'look' in her eyes, Harry chuckled. "You can't view everything through the lens of your house. Either one. Just as I have to step back a bit when I'm tempted to be too much of a Gryffindor, you need to step back from being a Slytherin."

Quirking an eyebrow, he added slyly, "Unleash your inner 'Puff."

"How did you know?"

"Just a guess. You're hardly the first person that the Sorting Hat's had to argue with at their sorting."

"Right, you're the poster boy for Gryffindor."

"The poster boy for insanity, correct?" Seeing her blush, Harry chuckled. "Would it help if I told you that the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin?"

"What?" Pausing for a moment, she added, "How?"

"Back in the day, I thought it was because there was a 'connection' to Voldemort," Harry began as he tapped his faded scar and smiled. "But I've since found that the Potter family has had a history of 'closet Slytherins' as I've read through the journals of some of my ancestors."

Thinking about it for a moment, Flora chuckled. "I can see that. Where better for a sneaky Slytherin to hide their cunning and ambition than in the 'House of the Insanely Brave'," she quipped. "Why didn't you?"

"Get sorted into Slytherin?" Pausing for a moment, Harry decided against leading another generation of Slytherins into cursing Draco and simply said, "My parents were both Gryffindors, I was desperate to find out more about them." Shrugging, he added, "The man who killed them was a Slytherin …" he added, trailing off at the look of understanding in her eyes.

"And the one who betrayed them, but you didn't know that then," Flora added.

Pausing for a moment, she reached out and placed her hand on his. "Lord Potter?"

Seeing him scowl, she blushed. "I know you aren't one to stand on ceremony, but I want to make a formal request."

Despite the feeling of foreboding, Harry nodded cautiously. "Ask away, Flora. All I can promise is that I'll listen and give you an honest answer."

"Take me with you, I want to be there when you tell them," she blurted out before she could lose her nerve.

Seeing the shocked look on his face, she sat up and stared him in the eye. "If I'm going to jump into House Granger and House Potter, then I'll listen to my inner Gryffindor and do it on my own coin, not someone else's."

Sitting back, Harry stared at her for several long seconds. Shaking his head, and muttering "Rosie really didn't need a twin," he finally reached up to rake his fingers through his fringe.

"Never mind the song and dance I'm going to have to give the Headmistress to pull this off, your soon to be Head of Family is going to have my guts for garters if anything happens to you."

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and said wearily, "Merlin help me, I'm actually considering taking a thirteen year old witch to Caer Sidi."

"Would it help if I mentioned I'm going to be fourteen next week," she asked cheekily. Seeing the glare he gave her, she quickly stopped smiling. "Guess not."

"Oh that would be oh so much better. I'm certain the departmental board of inquiry would see that a fourteen year old witch getting injured at Caer Sidi was totally different than a thirteen year old one."

"I'm not going to get injured," she huffed. "For Merlin's sake, I'm a Slytherin and for the next hour a Parkinson. I can take care of myself."

"If I do this," Harry started and he could see that it must be a witch thing since she instinctively knew, just like Lily and Rose did that as soon as he said that it was a done deal, "then we're going to do this correctly. You're going to be 'seen and not heard' until we're in the interrogation room with your mother and your … father," Harry said in a stern voice.

"You're going to stand in a designated area where you'll be protected if either one moves their arse out of the chair they're sitting in. You're going to listen to everything I tell you and do what you're told without questions. You'll be given an emergency portkey and if anything happens you'll be a good little Slytherin witch and activate it."

Seeing the look on her face, he said, "Do you understand me?"

When she nodded, he smirked. "I've learned this trick. Tell me what it is you understand. I'm not going to have the same argument I had with Lily when she was seven about what she 'understood'."

Grinning, she took a breath and began to recite. "You're taking me to Caer Sidi. I'm going to be telling my parents that I've taken sanctuary with House Granger. I'm going to be 'seen and not heard' as far as anyone else is concerned. In the interrogation rooms I'm going to stand exactly where you tell me to. I'm to be issued an emergency portkey and if anything happens I'm to activate it and get the hell out of wherever it is I am regardless of whether or not I know I could handle the situation." Pausing for a moment, she smirked. "Did I miss anything?"

"You don't have to do this," Harry said. "This is the sort of thing Hermione was talking about when she gave you sanctuary. You now have adults who will do this for you."

"Adults whom I wish to start off being respected by," Flora replied. "If I'm to be a contributing member of House Granger and House Potter …"

Flora trailed off at the look on Harry's face. She stepped back for a moment as he took a couple of deep breaths.

"Flora, the love and respect of this family isn't dependent upon what you think you need to do. All we ask is that you allow us to be there for you and that you are there for the others in turn."

Pausing for a moment, he said in a gentle voice, "That being said, I can see why this is important to you for a whole host of reasons. You don't need to face your mother for us, but if you need to face her for your sake, then I'm honored to be there with you and support you in this."

"It's not just her," Flora began carefully.

"I know, and since I've known your 'father' since I was eleven, I can pretty well imagine what's going to happen." Pausing for a moment, he added, "Just don't judge all of the Weasleys by him and his mother. The families are very well connected and none of us envision a total break between House Weasley and Houses Potter and Granger."

Standing, Flora brushed a wrinkle from her skirt. "Let's do this. The sooner done, the sooner we can get back to Diagon Alley and you can buy me an ice cream."

Chuckling, Harry motioned towards the door. As they crossed the room and came to the door, Flora stepped in front of him and placed the flat of her hand on his chest. As Harry stared at her, she blushed and looked him in the eye.

"Someday," she began in a tentative voice, her blush amping up as she tried to find words.

"You'll be one of us, there's no need for someday," Harry answered, seeing the doubt and longing in her eyes. "From this moment forward, you'll have a place to call home. I grew up in a house where I wasn't wanted, barely tolerated so I can understand part of what you're going through." Reaching out to her, he gently placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"This isn't going to be pretty. Would you rather …"

Blinking back tears, Flora shook her head. "For once in her miserable life, my mother had the right idea. For all of the wrong reasons, but she had the right idea."

Turning abruptly, Flora opened the door and stepped through as Harry stared after her.

* * *

><p><em>1530 4 September 2019, Reception Desk, Caer Sidi – Off the coast of Wales (somewhat)<em>

While Flora had never before exhibited any talent with Divination, her prediction regarding ice cream came true. Since it took longer to orchestrate a visit to Caer Sidi than they estimated, especially one that was never going to officially exist, all of the papers were signed at Gringotts and a double scoop of rocky road was consumed before the pair departed for the Ministry on their way to Wales.

The secure floo roared to life and a pair of figures stepped through, right on schedule. Looking up from his desk, and keeping his left foot firmly on the 'dead wizard's rune' on the floor in front of him, Senior Auror Caleb Fitzwilliam watched impassively as the two paused for a moment before approaching his station. Without needing to glance down, he recognized the taller of the two as his overall boss, Harry Potter.

The shorter of the two, the one whose identity was shrouded by the cloak they were wearing, was a mystery in more ways than one. When the access notification came through, he thought the Gaoler's eyebrows were going to meet her hairline when she saw Harry Potter, Chief Auror, and one authorized guest on the transmission countersigned by both Director Granger and Acting Chief Prosecutor Carrenton.

Carrenton's signature indicated that this was regarding the espionage case that had the entire department looking over its collective shoulder, and so it was no surprise that the request contained instructions to conduct two of the four prisoners to adjoining interview rooms.

As the pair stopped in front of him, Caleb motioned towards the globe of volcanic glass with a hole in it. "Your wand, Chief Auror?"

Smiling, Harry took his trusty holly and phoenix feather wand and inserted it with a flourish into the hole in the globe on the desk. There was a slight glow and a distant chiming as a disembodied voice began reciting."

"Holly and phoenix tail feather, eleven inches, creation of Ollivander. Identity confirmed as Harry James Potter, Order of Merlin First Class, Chief Auror."

Withdrawing his wand with a flourish, Harry returned it to his wrist holster. As Caleb turned his attention to the other figure, Harry's hand covered the aperture for the wand and shook his head.

"This one's off the books. My companion's identity was confirmed at the other end by the Chief Witch and the Minister."

"Chief Potter …" Taking a deep breath, Caleb looked up at his boss and began again.

"With all due respect, sir, the problem is that if there's an incident, I'm responsible for insuring your 'companion' is the same person that leaves who arrived." Quirking an eyebrow, he sighed. "I used the Barty Crouch Junior case as the example for my examination answer for the Senior Auror's exam, remember?"

Ignoring the snort that came from the cloaked person, Caleb waited for a moment before he was startled by the chuckle coming from his boss as he began reaching into the pocket of his auror robes. Pulling out a pair of galleons, he held them up for a moment before holding them out to the cloaked figure beside him.

"Fine, remind me not to bet against a Slytherin when skullduggery is on the line," he said in an exasperated tone of voice.

An indelicate snort came from within the cowl of the cloak as a pair of definitely feminine hands reached up and pushed the cowl back.

Shaking her hair free, Flora smirked as she accepted the coins and slid them into her robes. Handing her wand towards the auror at the desk, hilt first, she watched the auror's eyebrows almost disappear as he recognized her from the pictures that had appeared in the papers recently.

"Though I should thank you for winning me a couple of galleons off your boss, now you're the one who has to figure out how we're going to do this since both the Minister and the Chief Witch don't want an official parchment trail of my visit today."

Blinking in surprise, Caleb looked up at his boss and then back at the blonde witch who was watching him intently. Taking a deep breath, he thought about everything that could definitely establish identity. Ruling out anything physical, since polyjuice could duplicate it and the newer versions of the traditional potion were longer lasting and he didn't fancy asking a teenage witch escorted by the Chief Auror to stand around for six hours, he scowled.

"It's not as if I can ask to see her patronus," he began, only to be interrupted by "And just why not?"

"Other than the fact the chance of a thirteen year old witch casting a patronus is nil," he started before being rudely interrupted by the young blonde taking her wand back and huffing in annoyance.

"For Merlin's sake, I'm going to be fourteen next week," she exclaimed as she stepped back and intoned "Expecto Patronum!" in a clear, ringing voice.

Silver streamers issued forth from the tip of her wand and began to coalesce in front of her into a four legged form. A large four legged form.

Staring at her patronus in disbelief, Flora whispered "that's different" in awe as she stared at the otter who was looking around curiously. An otter the size of a deerhound but an otter nevertheless.

Without taking her eyes off the shining silver creature, she hesitantly reached out her wand hand as the patronus fixed its eyes on her. The shining otter tilted its head to the side before it snaked out on its long neck and nuzzled her hand.

"I think that will do just fine," Caleb said in a quiet voice not believing that he'd just witnessed a student call forth a corporeal patronus. At best he'd expected something that was recognizable when the girl took back her wand, but this? Looking up at his boss, he grimaced. "Sorry, had to ask."

"Not a problem Mr. Fitzwilliam, your attention to details is commendable and I'll be certain to pass my congratulations on to your section chief when I see her next."

Turning his attention back to Flora, and trying not to stare at the glittering otter, he cleared his throat. "Why don't you send your friend back for now, we'll see her again on our way out."

Before she could dismiss her patronus, it seems that the otter had its own ideas. Launching itself up into the air, the graceful creature circled them both before whacking Harry on the back of his head with its tail as it faded from view.

Trying not to laugh at the look on Harry's face, Flora covered her mouth with her hand. As Harry adjusted his glasses and rolled his eyes, he turned his attention back to the auror at the desk, who looked as if nothing untoward had happened.

"Are the two interview rooms set up?""

"Yes, sir. They're in Interview Three and Four. Extra wards have been added and both prisoners have been warned that any attempt to leave their chairs will have … consequences."

"Very good," Harry replied.

Becoming all business again, Auror Fitzwilliam turned his attention back to Flora. "You have the emergency portkey?" Seeing her nod and her hand involuntarily move to the wide copper bracelet on her left wrist, he smiled.

"I know Chief Potter and the Head of DMLE have gone over this, but if anything unusual happens, if Chief Potter tells you to, or if the alarms start going off, you touch that and say 'scramjet seven'. You'll be taken to a secure room back in London. Your identity will be verified there and you'll be debriefed. And until you're told otherwise, you were never here."

"Yes, I understand." Turning and looking up at Harry, she smiled. "You trained this one, correct?"

Shaking his head, Harry gestured towards the cowl of her cloak. "Better put that up, Auror Fitzwilliam understands your presence here, but I'd rather not tempt fate that there's not going to be someone in the corridor between here and there."

"Of course, Chief Auror Potter," Flora replied demurely as she lowered her eyes and flipped up her cowl. Pulling the cloak around her, she was once more the anonymous figure who had arrived.

Pushing the button on the edge of his desk, the only exit into the facility opened in the far wall. As the pair disappeared from view, Auror Caleb Fitzwilliam decided that he had better things to worry about than why the Chief Auror was escorting a schoolgirl to meet with two prisoners being held under DORA. Especially since her mother was one of them, it raised more questions than he cared to have answered. Especially about the soon to be ex-husband of the Director.

As the pair moved towards the holding area that contained the two interview rooms, Harry watched her out of the corner of his eye.

"A patronus, eh?"

"Rumor has it that I'm not the first thirteen year old to have one," she replied carefully.

"That's true, but I know why I learned to cast the spell. There were dementors running about that year and it seemed as if I was a magnet for them."

"My grandmother insisted this past summer. I spent August in Transylvania studying in Porolissum and I had to be able to cast a patronus before she'd let me leave." Pausing for a moment, she added in a hesitant voice. "A handful of dementors still haunt the battlefield where the Dacians defeated the Celts. Apparently Rubobostes had his pet necromancer summon them to ensure victory over the Celtic tribes. When one of the demons turned on the chief's son after the battle was over, he killed the necromancer before he realized he still needed him to send them back."

"Should I ask what you were studying?"

"Don't worry, human sacrifice and Dark Lady 101 aren't on the curriculum until next summer, the most I did was dance naked in the forest and sacrifice household pets to the Lords of Hell this last year," she snarked.

"Flora …"

"Advanced potions work. Unlike my mother, I don't have the godfather of my betrothed teaching the course at Hogwarts so I've got to work a bit harder if I'm going to uphold the family honors in Potions."

As the silence hung between them, she snickered. "Be honest, for half a second, you believed me, didn't you?"

"You grandmother may be many things, but she's a Slytherin through and through," Harry replied as he opened the door to a waiting room. As they stepped in, the lights came up.

"If she was going to prep her granddaughter to be the next Dark Lady, the first thing I know is that she'd never send her to someplace that obvious."

"And the second," Flora asked as she hung her cloak over the back of a chair sitting around the conference table and adjusted her robes, brushing her hand across the twin badges of House Potter and House Granger that now adorned it.

"Even at thirteen, you'd be much further along than the introductory classes by now," Harry finished as he touched his wand to the two plates beside the large windows in opposite sides of the room.

The scenes in both rooms were similar on the surface. In the room on the left, Pansy Parkinson was sitting quietly at the table in the interrogation room. Hands folded in front of her, resting on the surface of the table, she was the picture of calm and poise. Only the restless movement of her eyes back and forth around the room betrayed any apprehension regarding why she was there.

On the right, Ronald Weasley was sprawled in the chair, legs under the table and leaning back with one hand in his lap and the other draped over the table. His eyes were closed, but that didn't mean anything since he was very familiar with his surroundings and could probably hit any specific spot he wanted with a spell blindfolded, provided he could see something coming from doing that, of course.

Harry stood back and observed the young witch as she looked between the two. Watching her size them up, he could tell when she'd made her decision.

"The ginger first," Harry asked in a knowing voice.

"I believe so," Flora answered slowly. "Truth be told, I'm seeing this as just a formality, I doubt he'll believe I'm his daughter regardless of what I say or do, so if I'm reading him correct, he'll simply see this as part of a bigger plot."

Taking a deep breath, she added, "Unless, of course he decides he doesn't give any more of a damn about me than he does his other daughter in Slytherin."

"Flora," Harry began, causing the young witch to shift her attention to him, "once upon a time, he wasn't a bad person. Of course, that was back when we were all eleven or so. Then, he was simply thoughtless and rude, concerned only about himself as most eleven year olds are."

"Did he change, or did he fail to change?" Flora asked boiling twenty eight years down to a simple question.

"I wish I could say," Harry admitted sadly. "There were things we went through," he began as he looked over at the other window and gazed on Pansy for a moment before continuing.

"Things that we all went through that changed us, but both your mother and your father allowed other people's beliefs, other people's wars to mark them. Your mother bought into a decades old vendetta against my family along with that blood purity nonsense of the family she was betrothed to. Your father …"

Taking another deep breath as he looked at Ron, Harry shook his head sadly as he continued.

"Part of your father's problem is that Molly raised both him and Ginny so that they had no regard for consequences. He wanted things in his life, but he never made the connection …"

"Of how to get them?" Flora asked softly.

"Something like that," Harry admitted.

"Should I pity him or scorn him?"

"For good or for ill, his attitude and view of life cost him yet another daughter," Harry said. "His loss is my gain and I do pity him at times, but he's reached a point where he has to accept the consequences of the choices he's made."

Turning towards the window, so her back was to Harry as she watched Ron, she asked quietly, "Did you mean that?"

At first, thinking she was talking about allowing Ron to live with the consequences of his actions, Harry was surprised for a moment. Until he realized she was asking something else.

Stepping towards her, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

"We don't know each other, yet, but I'm fairly certain that I will come to treasure all three of my daughters equally before the day comes when I give them away."

"I've never had a father," she whispered, "just the continual parade of men in and out of my mother's bedroom." Pausing for a moment, she added, "Being the consummate Slytherin, I know more than I should about my housemates. Rose loves you deeply; one note from you and the girl was on cloud nine for a week. If you ever hurt her like that man has, I will hunt you down."

Squeezing gently, Harry smiled at the bonds that were developing already between the children. "Not to discount my Dark Lady in training, but I think you'd be about ten seconds behind Lily if I ever did something like that to Rose."

Waiting for her to nod, he added, "Or you."

Another few seconds passed, and Flora blew out a noisy breath.

"If someone comes in here, they'll think they've stumbled into a Badger reunion. Let's get this over with so I can get back and take a shower." Shivering a bit, she looked around her.

"Just being here makes me feel … dirty."

"Thank your lucky stars this isn't Azkaban," Harry replied. "They're decommissioning it, the dementors haven't been there since back in '99, and I still feel as if my soul is contaminated every time I go there."

As they stepped in front of the door, Harry waited until the young witch nodded before placing his hand on the control plate.

The door slid open and they stepped through into the brightly lit room

At the noise of the door, Ron looked up, though the rest of his posture was unchanged. Looking puzzled when he recognized Flora, his face broke out into a malicious grin as he noted the House Potter insignia on her robes.

"So you're the one that knocked her mother up," he chuckled. "I always wondered who the idiot was that got her pregnant."

"Actually, Father, the idiot in question was you," Flora drawled, her voice and inflections a dead ringer for her mother at her snarkiest. "Mother thought it quite delicious that you were too stupid to wonder if the baby might be yours when the witch you've been shagging on a regular basis for years turns up pregnant."

Turning to Harry, ignoring the shocked look on Ron's face, she smirked. "Mother said he whinged incessantly since both her and Granger were pregnant at the same time."

"What the Hell are you trying to pull, Potter?" Ron bellowed as he tried to jump up from his position behind, and partially beneath, the table.

Stepping in front of Flora, Harry put his arm out to shield her in case anything happened.

"Ron, she's telling you the truth. Flora has asked sanctuary with House Granger and House Potter. We've accepted her, she'll have a seat at our table and a roof over her head for as long as she desires. She's a daughter of the House, just the same as Rose or Lily."

Seeing the disgusted look on Ron's face, Flora stepped past Harry and snarled, "Trust me, the thought that the blood of you and that harridan you have for a mother flows through my veins will keep me up nights for months."

Shaking her head, she looked up at Harry and smiled before turning her attention back to Ron. "Lord Potter ensured that I had a chance to speak to my grandfather before all of the paperwork at the bank was signed. Apparently I'm being taken shopping the next Hogsmeade weekend to make up for a number of the holidays he missed."

"You can't just waltz in here and pretend to be my daughter," Ron snarled. "It's bad enough I've had one by-blow …"

Faster than either of them could blink, Harry was around the table and backhanded Ron across the face. Fortunately for Ron, or unfortunately depending upon how you look at it, Harry's presence touching both Ron and the chair allowed the chair to give way and for Ron to rocket backwards from the force of the blow, landing against the wall where the restraining wards of the room caught up with him and locked his limbs in a most uncomfortable position.

Stalking across the room, ignoring Flora's pleas for him to stop, Harry knelt down and stared Ron in the eye.

"If you ever speak to or about any of the children in that manner again, I will exercise my rights as Head of the Potters and I will meet you in an honor duel."

The bravado Ron was about to retort with died at the look in Harry's eyes. Seeing only his death if he ever was on the other end of Harry's wand in the future, Ron nodded as best he could considering the restraining wards.

As the door opened on the interior wall, and the two guards cautiously stepped into the room, Harry nodded to them and looked over his shoulder at Flora. Seeing the nod she gave him, he turned his attention back to the guards and simply said, "We're done here."

As Harry approached the door, with Flora just in front of him, Ron gave his parting shot as the aurors helped him from the floor.

"Harry, you deserve them both."

Pausing for a moment, Harry smiled and turned to look at him, one last time.

"And you didn't deserve any of them," he replied. "Guess that makes me the 'Chosen One' after all."

As the door slid shut behind him, Harry spun around to see that the young witch was shaking.

As he stepped closer to her, she whispered, "I didn't think it would hurt."

"I wish I could say that he would come around, that he's bad with surprises and once he's had a chance to think about it, he'll change," Harry said as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"The truth is, he's been thoughtless and totally self absorbed since I met him. That first Halloween, his cruelty and thoughtlessness almost got Hermione killed; I don't think he's ever really apologized for that."

As Flora turned to look at him, Harry shrugged. "He was sorry she almost got killed, but he never really apologized for what he said about he that put her in harm's way. I should of …"

"Lord Potter," Flora began, with an ironic grin beginning to show on her face, "with all due respect you were eleven at the time and by all accounts pretty clueless yourself. I think the fact that you went to rescue a witch you hardly knew and pulled it off speaks for itself."

Seeing the shocked look on his face, she blushed. "You're still the subject of Hogwarts legend, and you're pretty much the standard by which Hogwarts boyfriends are compared to. They might be in Slytherin, but there are a number of witches wearing green and silver knickers who would kill for a boyfriend that would jump on the back of a mountain troll for them."

Coughing to cover his embarrassment, especially after the 'knickers' comment, he took a second to allow them both to compose themselves.

"Are you ready to do this?"

"Actually, no. I knew that anyone who didn't even consider I could be his daughter wouldn't care, but I've always had the thought that my mother cared for me, at least for something other than a tool in this vendetta she inherited from my grandmother."

"You mother is in a very precarious position, and she's always been the consummate Slytherin," Harry began. "Take what she says with a big grain of salt and come back for another discussion in a year or two, once her future is a bit more settled."

Blinking back tears, Flora nodded as they moved to the other door.

Harry placed his hand on the plate beside the door again, and the door slid open.

As they stepped through, Pansy looked up and gave them a cool, dispassionate look. Her eyes widening only slightly as she noticed the crests on her daughter's robes, she nodded firmly as the two stopped in front of the table.

"I see you've cut your own deal," Pansy began without preamble. "I applaud your initiative; it would have taken me at least a month to negotiate a coup like that."

Staring coolly at her daughter, she matched her glare for glare before turning her attention to Harry. "I've seen her, I applaud her cunning. Please dismiss your charge so we can discuss a couple of matters that don't concern her."

Masking his disbelief, Harry stared at Pansy for a long moment before he could hear the sniff coming from Flora. Shaking his head, he turned to Flora, and lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. Seeing the bitter hurt there, he smiled.

"Please wait for me in the anteroom; I'll only be a moment with this person."

Nodding, Flora flashed him a small smile before she quickly turned, never looking back at her mother.

As the door slid shut, Harry turned around, fully intent on unleashing on the witch seated before him. He was surprised to see she was holding up her hand.

"Please, Lord Potter, you need to listen to me."

Shocked, Harry stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly. "Start talking and it better be good."

"There are people who would punish me for failure, and they would not hesitate for a moment to use her as part of that punishment. If she doesn't have protection, she'll die a very painful and humiliating death before Christmas." Blushing she looked down and whispered, "I thank you for saving her life."

"And that performance?" Blinking her eyes in disbelief, Harry stared at her trying to rationalize what he thought he knew about her with what he was seeing now.

"Like every teenage witch on the planet, down deep she harbors the thought that her mother is the most heartless bitch in existence. I need for her to believe that so she'll cling to your family and remain safe. I know that Gryffindor's 'Golden Couple' will do the right thing, but I need for her to hate me so she'll stay safe."

Totally gobsmacked, the only thought running through his head was whether or not Pansy was trying to play him, or was she sincere.

"You can't return my wand so I can swear an oath, but on my life and magic, I swear that my only motivation is for you to keep my daughter safe. If she hates me and it keeps her alive, then I can live with that."

Deciding that she was, apparently, sincere, Harry only nodded. "What can I do to help?"

"Give her something she's never had, love. Be her father, don't just play her father." Tears filling her eyes, Pansy kept her attention focused on Harry.

"I never had a chance, but Flora has a chance. I was shackled to that cretin Draco when I was five. I know he says he's changed, but I beg you not to allow him access to your daughter. He's the least of her worries, but I can't trust him after everything that happened back then."

Nodding, Harry's mind was whirling. Draco had apparently reformed, but controlling his access to Pansy's daughter was a small thing.

"You need to go before she suspects something's going on," Pansy began. "Just two things before you leave." Seeing Harry's nod, she took a deep breath and smiled.

"I regret having called for your surrender to … Voldemort that night," she began hesitantly. "But I also regret not having had my moment alone with Harry Potter."

Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, she chuckled. "I'd like to think that the Gryffindor Golden Boy could have gotten through the Ice Bitch persona I had and I might have been a different person because of it. We'll never know, but every once in a while, at two am when I'm trying to ignore the hell my life has become, I wonder if the two of us could have done something … heroic that night and saved some lives before the final battle in the Great Hall."

Stunned, Harry's mind ran in gibbering little circles over what he'd just heard. Painfully aware that, given the limited knowledge he had that night, things had to play out the way they did, he tried to find something that would be meaningful to her.

"Pansy, I don't know what to say. I'd like to think that if you'd offered your help that night I would have been smart enough to take it. I trusted Narcissa and that worked out."

Seeing the shocked look on her face, Harry smiled. "And the second thing?"

"Eventually, you and Granger will work things out on a private level between the two of you," Pansy began in a hesitant voice. Seeing the blush on Harry's cheeks, she shook her head.

"My purpose isn't to embarrass you over what you and Granger have or haven't done. For her sake …"

Breaking off, she closed her eyes before continuing.

"Be kind. Be gentle. For God's sake, be understanding. The girl's been treated horribly, she might not realize exactly how foul Weasley really was, but she needs someone gentle who loves her. Whether or not she realizes it, from what he boasted about, she's a victim and she'll need all of the love you can muster."

Opening her eyes and seeing the horrified look on his face, she nodded. "On the bright side, he's a crap lover, so anything you do will thrill her, but just love her."

Seeing the look on Harry's face, she shook her head. "You can't kill him just because he's a rotten bastard. Hell, half the time I was tempted to castrate the bastard, but I needed him. My daughter and your lover will both need you so you can't spend your time in custody explaining why you flayed the skin off him and rolled him in sea salt."

"Favorite fantasy?" Harry asked warily.

"Pretty much. And you're not making much of a debut as a dad, leaving your daughter sitting alone in a darkened room after some heartless bitch just rejected her."

Nodding, Harry turned and placed his hand on the plate on the wall. As the door slid open, he stepped through quickly and waited until it closed behind him before looking around.

Flora was sitting on the table, facing the window to her mother's room, her chin propped on her hand. Watching her cry as the aurors came in to collect her.

"Do you believe her?"

"I believe she loves you," Harry began cautiously. "I believe she was sincere about her fears for you. I believe she's correct about the threats that surround you."

"And the other?"

"I'm afraid that she's correct about what happened between your father and Hermione."

Sighing, Flora looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "That night?"

"Who knows," Harry replied with a shrug. "And who am I to take her 2 am fantasy from her?"

Smiling at the exasperated look on her face, Harry returned the favor. "And what are you going to do?"

"Let my inner badger out to play a bit more often," she began slowly as she stood up. "But I want you to bring me back the day after I turn seventeen."

Putting his arm round her shoulders, Harry smiled. "Not quite ready for a mother daughter chat?"

"No, but witch to witch might be good. By then I might be ready to ask her …"

"She does love you, at least enough to let you go somewhere safe."

As they walked out into the corridor, to retrace their steps back to their exit point, Flora looked up at Harry as they moved further from the two people they had come to see. Seeing the look on his face, she simply asked, "Care to share?"

"Now comes the important part, the part I can't dare get wrong," he said simply.

"The trials?"

"No." Shaking his head, he squeezed her a bit tighter as he simply said, "Being your father."

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><p><em>an2 - edited on 10/26/2012 for minor corrections of spelling and grammer. Thanks again to alix33 for the excellent assist. _

_a/n3 - edited on 10/02/2015 for a spelling correction. Jumping on the back of a mountain troll is much more impressive than on the back of a mountain trail._


	20. No Good Deed …

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –** It's taken too long for this chapter to see the light of day. The only excuse I have is that I wasn't certain exactly how the final showdown was going to work out, and that impacted how this chapter would end. That's no real excuse, and I hope that everyone who was interested in this story is still along for the ride._

_However, for the twentieth time, I still don't own the Harry Potterverse, JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners do. No infringement upon their property rights is either intended or inferred. _

_But, if it's any consolation, it's a nice day for a walk along a scenic cliff overlooking the sea _**_…_**

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><p>Chapter Twenty – No Good Deed …<p>

_Sunset, 13 September, 2019 –the former Dumbledore Manor near Mould-on-the-Wold, Yorkshire_

As he came around the curve in the walking path, Marko Ramius was the picture of an English academic indulging himself in his avocation of birding along the cliffs that overlooked the picturesque coastline of Robin Hood's Bay. Though he despised the muggle world with a passion, he was astute enough to use the trappings of the muggles to pass undetected among them when it suited him.

As he reached the point where only someone with a proper magical heritage could see the walkway that would lead to the manor house set back from the Cleveland Way walking path, a manor house that was also invisible to the muggles, he stepped off the walking path onto the warded walkway. If someone had come around the curve just then, it would seem to them as if he had disappeared into thin air.

Of course, since Marko was practicing his own brand of constant vigilance, it would have necessitated ending the life of the individual, so if was just as well his disappearance onto the disillusioned walkway went unnoticed.

As he moved quickly up the path, he could feel the prickling of the various low level wards that screened the path. Purposely set with minimum power and benign effects so they would not attract undue attention from either the hopelessly deluded Ministry in London or any witch or wizard who noticed the walkway and decided to see what was at the end of it, Marko scowled at the limitations he was forced to work with here in England.

As he came within sight of the old manor house, and chuckled at the irony that it had belonged to the family of the purported champion of muggles Albus Dumbledore before it had been lost when his father had avenged the vicious assault of his daughter by a horde of barbarians from the local community, he stepped a seemingly random flagstone of reddish colour and waited.

Feeling the faint touches of scrying magic, Marko suppressed his normal response to such an outrage and continued to wait.

A faint shimmer between him and the house was the only indication that he wasn't alone, but that was enough for him to subtly palm his wand as it dropped down from the wrist holster he wore.

"Peace, *Ponas Ramius. We are all working towards similar goals," came a melodic voice as an older woman dressed in formal robes shimmered into view. "I'm pleased to see that you survived your travels in fine form."

Daturia Selwyn, Matriarch of the Selwyn family and current owner of the former Dumbledore property, though carefully hidden though several proxies only distantly related to her late husband's business ventures, smiled warmly at the wizard standing before her.

Glaring at her, Ramius took a deep breath to help suppress his displeasure at being reminded of his recent sojourn in the muggle world and inclined his head, ever so slightly in greeting.

"Madam Selwyn, you graciously requested my presence and indicated that it would be beneficial to the goals we both pursue." Looking up at the English witch, he met her gaze and held it.

"The book you sent was interesting, but I'm not certain how a book of Scottish folklore …"

"What do you think those fools in London would do if a murder of Redcaps were to be released upon the Borders?"

"Which fools," Marko asked looking at the woman with interest. "Your pathetic Ministry or those contemptible creatures that you hide from?"

"Either. Both." Waving her hand dismissively, she sighed loudly before continuing. "If the British government moved against the wizarding enclaves here, would that be enough to waken those fools at the ICW? Bring them out from their hiding places and finally end this farce known as the Statutes of Secrecy?"

"You are mad," Marko replied, looking around to see if anyone was observing them. "There's no way the ICW would crawl out from beneath the rocks they've buried themselves beneath. We'll have to destroy …"

"But destruction is the key," she countered smoothly as she gestured towards the walkway leading to the old manor house.

As the pair made their way to the house, Marko's mind was awhirl trying to decide where this was heading. While the traditionalists in his homeland and elsewhere chafed under the restrictions imposed by the Statutes of Secrecy, they all admitted that there hadn't been any of the massive pogroms or burnings since the wizarding cultures had withdrawn behind the veils the secrecy created.

While contemptuous of the muggles, Ramius was realist enough to know that the capabilities of the world that surrounded them hadn't remained static since the seventeenth century.

While he didn't give credence to the fears of some that the muggles were capable of completely destroying them if they ever came out from behind their secrets, he realized that the moment for revealing the wizarding world would need to be carefully picked and planned for to ensure that wizards were able to control the situation and its outcome.

An unplanned or poorly planned revelation could jeopardize everything, especially if the traditionalists weren't in control of the various wizarding institutions.

With the current fools in London and Zurich in charge, he could very easily see the wizarding world subjected to control and scrutiny by the muggles rather than controlling them as was the proper order of things.

As they stepped through the front door into the house's foyer, Marko shook his head.

"Destruction and slaughter will do nothing but fuel a reaction from the muggles …"

"This, in turn, will force the Ministry and the ICW to finally turn to us for guidance," his hostess countered. "With those animals reacting in the only way they know to a manifestation of the reality that surrounds them, the various wizarding governments and the ICW will have to rise up out of hiding and seize control of the sheep that surround them."

"That's all well and good, if we could count on our 'leaders' to lead in a proper manner. Your own Ministry is blighted with those of tainted blood. While your Kingsley doesn't seem ready to retire, it's commonly acknowledged that if Potter doesn't want the job, his mudblood whore will be the next Minister."

"This is why we must act now. If we can taint the images of both Potter and his whore, link them to the destruction, then it will be simplicity itself to ensure a proper candidate is selected in the chaos that ensues."

Seeing the disbelieving look on his face, she shrugged. "If the muggles are striking back at wizarding communities, even the most besotted of the blood traitors will be unwilling to put one of them in charge."

Leaning back in the chair, Marko steepled his fingers beneath his chin and closed his eyes. Feeling the feather-light brush of passive legilimency against his shields, he swatted it away with a flick of his thumbs, causing a gasp of pain from behind him.

Not bothering to open his eyes to see which one of his hostess' minions had dared to try to pry into his thoughts, both to show them that they were beneath his concern and to prevent the necessity of killing the person, painfully, for being so presumptuous, Marko turned the facts over in his mind to see if his initial reaction to this was sound.

Daturia Selwyn, and apparently all of her followers, was dangerously delusional.

And, by extension, the Pureblood movement in Britain was also both dangerous and delusional.

Delusional to think that they could get away with this, and dangerous because they would not only destroy the traditionalists here in England once they moved, but they ran a serious risk of provoking the muggles in the wider world into waking up and doing the thing they did best.

Muggles fear what they don't understand and they always attempt to destroy what they fear.

Coming to a decision, he opened his eyes and smiled at his hostess, ensuring that his occlumency shields were fully intact.

"Good. What is our plan?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>an2 -** *Ponas is a traditional Lithuanian honorific. Madam Selwyn is trying to appeal to her guest's sense of entitlement. Marko isn't buying, but he accepts the gesture in the spirit is was intended._


	21. Potter and Selwyn and de Soulis Oh My!

**The Phoenix Syndrome**

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><p><em><strong>an –**__ All right everyone, we're jumping in our Way Back Machine and visiting the beginning of the Thirteenth Century so we can see part of how we got to where we are. What is this scourge that Lady Selwyn wants to unleash on the borders? Why do the Selwyns hate the Potters yet seem intent on merging the families?_

_Why is Lady Selwyn muttering under her breath quoting Yul Brenner? _

_This is the second version of this chapter. The first one was about the same length, but it was very difficult to read because I'd done a decent amount of research and it was full of dialogue that was period appropriate and full of references that would have done any of my old friends in Drachenwald proud._

_And was fairly unreadable, even for me. Honestly, I fell asleep reading through it._

_Therefore, I rewrote this chapter. Hopefully it fills in the gaps and is a tad more readable. So, if anyone reads this and feels that the wife of a 13__th__ century lord wouldn't talk that way, you're probably correct. I'm only asking you to suspend your disbelief with this chapter, not hang it by the neck until it was dead. Hopefully everyone will enjoy this_

_And Lady Selwyn is saying "Hell hath no fury, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera," under her breath._

_Which doesn't change the fact that JKR owns the entirety of the Harry Potter Universe along with her various and sundry corporate partners. The Way Back Machine belongs to Mr. Peabody, who was created by Ted Key for the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show cartoons created by Jay Ward. I suppose I should also point out that I don't own 'The King and I'._

_And if anyone sees Sherman, for Heaven's sake don't let him wander into Binns' history class. He'll be scarred for life.  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty One – Potter and Selwyn and de Soulis, Oh My!<strong>

_31 October, 1207 at Compline –Nine-stane Rigg, Scotland_

"Is it done?"

Standing in the moonlight, the tall cloaked figure had just stepped from the shadows masking the standing stones behind him. Barely able to be seen in the in the fitful light coming from the waning moon, it was as if he had appeared from thin air when he stepped out of the deep shadows shrouding the stones.

While perfectly capable of doing just that, Michael Scot was not a wizard who used magic every time he could. Considered an eccentric by some, the Master of the Order of the Phoenix was both honored and reviled by wizards the length and breadth of the lands making up the old Celtic realms.

"Lord Scot," the taller of the two figures in front of him said with a grim smile as he sketched a shallow bow. "We seem to have what your Lady Wife would call 'a slight bubble in the loaf'."

Waving his hand in an amused manner, and noting the scowl of the witch standing beside his old apprentice, he resisted the urge to sigh. _"While young Charlus was lacking in grace when they parted ways, she needs to abandon this anger with the lad before it consumes her. God's truth, 'tis been almost a decade,"_ was his private thought, well shielded behind mental walls since both of his former students were well schooled in the arts of the Mind.

"Out with it Charlus, I'd rather not be standing here when the sun rises. It's already Compline and I'd hoped to be abed before Brother Fregus begins Matins." Pausing for a moment and seeing that Aoife Selwyn was already incensed there was no need to tread lightly in her presence. "Neither my Lady Wife nor yours will appreciate either of us returning home with the rising of the sun."

Before Charlus Potter, wizarding advisor to the late Angevin king Richard and Baron in his own right could speak, his companion snarled with an almost vicious hiss.

"Aye, let him run back to that strumpet before she steals another witch's wizard while he's gone," Aoife Selwyn snapped. "I need no foresworn boy to finish tonight's work."

Seeing that Charlus was resigned to the enmity that his former lover exhibited when they were not in a public forum, Scot raised his hand to silence the irate witch.

"Aoife, I tasked the two of you to bring down de Soulis not to inconvenience you or to subject young Charlus to your temper, but because of all the members of the Order, you were the pair that had the best chance of bringing the rogue to justice," he said in a voice that, while well modulated and calm, held a distinct edge to anyone who knew him.

Seeing her snap her head up and glare at him, he smiled and simply asked, "If it's not too much of a bother, could one of you enlighten me as to the small bubble that seems to have made its way into the loaf that was ending the evil that is Ranulf de Soulis?"

In what seemed to Scot to be a scene from almost two decades ago when both of the frighteningly talented younger magicians were his students, the two looked at each other, carried on a conversation that consisted of one arched eyebrow; one set of rolled eyes and a shrug before Aoife look up and grimaced.

"It's bad, Tidsear, The teuchter didn't take losing his magic well, he's made a pact with one of the Unseelie Court for powers and protections."

Seeing that their old mentor was looking at them knowingly, Aoife Selwyn realized that this much had been known to the old man, which explains why he paired the two of them to handle this, despite the bad blood that lay between them. Shaking her head, she didn't need to look at Charlus to know he had sussed this out before she had.

"But what you may not know is that he's bound himself to the Redcap, and he's used the Baldurite Heresy to do so."

Blinking in surprise, Scot thought furiously for a moment. The Baldurite Heresy was a ritual that came from the legends of the Aesir, where a willing, though most would say desperate, individual mimicked the acquiring of invulnerability that legend ascribed to Baldur.

As with the Aesir's Baldur having a vulnerability to mistletoe, so the pact the person undergoing the rite had to have one vulnerability, and one that was achievable. The ritual wouldn't seal without a valid vulnerability and the fell spirit that was summoned to power the transformation would drag the presumptuous mortal back to whatever corner of Hell or the Abyss they had been summoned from.

While not 'traditional' and Scott snorted in amusement at the concept of something being dared so rarely having a tradition to it, a member of the fae's Unseelie Court would substitute nicely for the requisite devil or demon.

"Aye, and what did he swear to? What must we find to break his bond with Redcap?" Turning towards Charlus he smiled. "I remember your grandfather Godric having to find the blood of a dozen virgins to form an arrow of the last time this was done."

Ignoring Aoife's muttered, "If they know a Potter, it's highly doubtful they're a virgin", Charlus looked at their old mentor for a moment before he began to smile. "Aye, you freeze the blood into a solid mass and then carve an arrow from it."

"Or you use the molds they use for casting silver bolts and arrows and freeze the blood, but you get the idea. The witch who entered the pact didn't think it through and your grandfather eventually thought of a way to bring her low," Scot answered.

Turning his attention back to Aoife, he could see the look on her face let him know that it wasn't going to be quite this simple.

"All right, lass, best give me the whole of the story. Don't make me pull it out of you line by line like a Breton bard on a bender."

"Merlin's shot from a bombard delivered from a distance of fifty seven furlongs," was her reply, clearly not seeing any way that could be achieved.

"Rumors are that the Moors in Iberia have some of those devices," Charlus mused, "but from everything I've heard seven furlongs would be a minor miracle."

Looking over at his former comrade, he shrugged. "You studied in the East; did the Jin have anything like that?"

"Mostly toys for their warlords to cart around and impress the natives but as signaling devices they do tolerably well," she mused shaking her head. "The powder that they use to power these devices is highly unstable. The slightest spark at the wrong moment and you end up destroying the people wielding the weapons."

"How do you even see something at that distance, much less 'hit' it with anything," Aoife mused as she shuddered. "We can't keep both him and Redcap bound forever."

"Ach, lad. You forget, we dunna need to keep this teuchter bound forever, just long enough for his bane to come into existence," Scot said with a twinkle in his eye.

Staring at the older wizard in disbelief, Aoife Selwyn shook her head in disbelief. "You planned this, you old Sassenach. You paired me with this churl because you knew we're the only two who can do the plumbum binding. If I look in that bloody henge and see a cauldron big enough to boil a puka …"

Trailing off, she stared at the man in exasperation. "Da?"

"Aoife fach, not everything in life is about you. The Powers know your mother and I have tried to teach you that for years now." Looking over at Charlus who was glaring at him, he sighed. "Not you too?"

"Tidsear," he began formally with none of the previous levity in his voice. "While I have no problem with any task that your or the Order would choose to set for me," he began with a gravity that subtly reminded the older wizard that neither of them were the emotionally charged children they were when they first became his students, "I must most respectfully suggest that your penchant for having more strings to your bow than a Flemish mercenary is going to cause someone great pain and anguish someday. "

Glaring at the older man for a moment, he stepped forward and said in a low voice, "By the stars, I know I'm tempted to challenge her to an honor duel more often than not, but this was unnecessary. We could have gotten …"

"Enough." Michael Scott said in a flat, unemotional voice. "This is the Order, not a royal court where every decision is bandied about. You two are the pair most suited to achieve the desired result, I have no way of knowing how long we'll need to imprison de Soulis and that fell spirit and we can't risk the bindings giving way."

Looking over at his daughter, he sighed. "Aoife, would you have crofters along the borders in five hundred years harried from the homes because I chose a lesser partner for either of you?"

Blushing, she stared at him for a moment before she looked to the skies. "Did it ever occur to you that I'm a married witch? That I have a husband and bairns at home?"

"Lord Selwyn knows full well his wife is a witch considering he met you at Hogwarts." Scot said gently. "He also knows you stand for the Order and that Magic will have Her due, regardless of the things we think or feel. While I imagine, if he were to hear of this …"

"Da, you expect me to go home to my husband …" Trailing off, she turned to glare at her companion, who was keeping an impassive face.

"And you? You bloody well know you're married. What would she say?"

Taking a deep breath, and visibly mentally discarding a couple of responses, Charlus finally shrugged and simply said, "Victoria would probably offer me a mug of mulled ale or wine to ward off the chill."

Seeing the deadly look in her eyes, he held up his hand. "Chill from the night air, nothing more."

Huffing in disbelief, Aoife muttered under her breath for a moment then finally glared at her father. "Well enough, but you're telling my Mother about this."

Shrugging, Scot looked over at Charlus and saw that he knew that he had warned his wife of this eventuality earlier before turning around and appearing to be surprised.

"By the Saints, look what someone left sitting in the midst of the henge."

Lazily waving his wand, a great bronze cauldron, indeed large enough to boil a puka, moved towards them, along with several casks and a pile of grayish blocks. As they settled in the middle of the area between them and the henge, he chuckled.

"Well, since someone went to the trouble of leaving this here."

Growling in disbelief, Aoife stomped off out of the light to where they had left their prisoners. An earsplitting shriek caused both of the wizards to flinch, but since the voice was male, neither felt compelled to go and see what was occurring.

A moment later, the sound of something being dragged across the broken ground surrounding the henge was heard and then the sight of Aoife Selwyn dragging a pair of chains over her shoulder came into sight.

As she came into the circle of light, Scot got his first look at Ranulf de Soulis since he had proclaimed the Order and Wizengamot's judgment against him over a year ago,

The time hadn't passed well for the Border Lord, both losing his magic and then the effects of his fell pact were plain to see as Aoife hauled him up, leaving him to stand with the cumbersome chains binding him as she turned to deal with the fey that was bound to him.

His first glimpse of Redcap, the bloodthirsty murderer that the Unseelie Court used to make their displeasure known was disquieting. While he was taller than a tall man, his posture gave you the impression of a stocky dwarf rather than the lithe forms the fey usually assumed. Squat in body, with sallow skin and a thin pointed nose, the beady lifeless black eyes of the murdering sprite glared malevolently as it struggled with the cold iron chains that one of the pair had conjured to hold him.

The disgusting crofter's cap on his bald head dripped blood, causing red streaks down the malevolent being's face as drops of blood were spattered each time he shook his head.

Stepping forward, Michael Scot made a peculiar gesture and the cloak he was wearing vanished, revealing him as wearing the ceremonial robes of the Order of the Phoenix. Glittering on his breast was the goblin silver medallion that signified his role as Master of the Order.

"Redcap, murdering sprite. You have broken the peace that exists between the Fey and the residents of this isle," Scot began. Seeing the murderous rage in the eyes of the creature before him, he steeled himself for what was to come.

"The Seelie Court has agreed that the sunlit lands are the realms of the mortal. While the Fey and others have rights of passage, the laws of hospitality apply. These demenses are no longer yours to do as you please, and you are forbidden by decree and custom to make the pact that you have with this mortal."

"The right is his, to choose. Forfeiture of his soul for the powers that you stripped from him is his decision." Smiling wickedly, the sprite drew himself up. "Where is your vaunted 'free will' now?"

Smiling, Scot bowed to Redcap, never taking his eyes from him. "Free will allows de Soulis to attempt to achieve the impossible. The fiat of your Queen forbids you from accommodating him. Only the fallen spirits of the Abyss make such bargains. And those never last; bargains with the servants of the Prince of Lies are doomed from the start."

"The Dark Queen of the Night made no such bargain," Redcap countered.

"But Maeve, the Queen of the Air and all the Fey has decreed it to be so. She will not be drawn into the rebellion of the Fallen. She has no desire for her or her children to share the fate of the Fallen Ones."

Falling into a sullen silence, since the rogue fey knew exactly what was about to happen and only the patience of the fey would serve him now, Redcap simply closed his eyes and ignored his surroundings while his magic furiously searched for a weakness in the bindings that held him here.

Turning his attention to the former wizard, Scot shook his head in despair.

"Ranulf, ye nay could leave it alone, could ye," Scot said in a sorrowful voice.

"Devil take you, you sanctimonious hypocrite," the bound man spat at him. You're too late; I'll have my freedom eventually and my revenge upon those that refused me my due in good time."

"Ranulf, the Wizengamot of the four crowns has declared you unfit to wield magic. The Queen of the Fey has forbid her subjects from lending theirs to mortals in this manner. Despite the protections you have stolen, as Master of the Order I condemn you to pay for your transgressions with your life. May the immortal courts judge you as your life warrants."

"Fool, I am beyond your petty judgments. Do your worst," Ranulf scoffed belligerently. "You lack the means and power to breach my defenses."

Looking over de Soulis' shoulder as his daughter and protégé prepared for the ritual, Scot questioned exactly what led to men like this appearing. While he personally preferred the views of the monk Pelagius, even though he was a Sassenach, to the soul numbing views of Augustine, Scot thought that it might be slightly more comforting to think that men sank to these depths of depravity because they must rather than because they chose to.

Which led him back to the worry that if his path was chosen for him, then was there any merit in trying to live a goodly life if that was ordained as well. Deciding that he would follow the simpler theories of Kentigern and simply go fishing after all of this was done, he saw that the ceremonial components had been laid out and the ritual was close to beginning.

Seeing that both of the participants had divested themselves of all of their material things in preparation for what was to come, he cast a subtle warming charm on the air. While the ambient magic of the henge itself would disrupt any complicated charms, not to mention the magic raised by the ritual they were going to perform, the subtle magics of the field and earth would suffice to take the chill out of the air.

Skillfully guiding the large bronze cauldron so that it was setting on the junction of lines drawn to the major stones of the henge from the eastern sky.

Stepping back, Scot moved the large blocks of lead until they were evenly spaced around the cauldron, and then placed the casks of fine oil between them.

Nodding to his daughter, keeping his face impassive, he waited until she nodded before be stepped back and willed the change.

While it was known that the patronus of the wizard Michael Scot, Master of the Order of the Phoenix was a ghostly dragon, few ever considered what this would mean if Scot were an animagus. Most would have taken that as meaning that Scot wasn't an animagus since the common wisdom was that such forms were not attainable.

As was often the case, common wisdom was wrong.

Feeling the heady inrush of power as he drew power from the Earth itself, feeling the pulling on the nearby ley line as the world shifted before him.

In the place of a tall imposing wizard dressed in ceremonial robes there appeared a silver coloured dragon, his head towering twenty feet in the air, wings spanning over eighty feet from tip to tip.

As he raised his head to the heavens, he cried forth with joy at the feel of the power coursing through him, a cone of flame poured forth over sixty feet in length shot into the air, driving the chill of October on the Boarders away with a flash of dragonfire.

"Quit showing off," Aoife muttered as she paralyzed the pair of prisoners using an ancient binding spell that would keep them from moving until the magic was interrupted.

Banishing the chains of cold iron that had imprisoned them, she raised first de Soulis and then the fell Redcap and placed them so that they were both standing within the cauldron, the top of the cauldron coming to the middle of de Soulis' chest. Concentrating her magic, she forced both entities to kneel so that the top of the cauldron was now above both of their heads.

Positioning herself so she was standing on the ley line that the cauldron was straddling, Aoife summoned her father's staff to her. Spreading her feet shoulder width apart, she planted the staff into the earth right over the line and grasped it firmly.

Turning her head towards her former lover, she refused to blush as he met her eyes. "I'll charge the cauldron and hold them, add the elements for the grounding and binding."

Nodding his head towards her, Charlus strode around the cauldron until he reached the opposite point where the ley line moved past the cauldron. Nodding to the dragon that was his mentor, Charlus mimicked Aoife's posture dropping his wand so that it stuck into the turf between in feet before closing his eyes.

As he felt the power drop from the ley line, indicating that Aoife had started channeling the raw magical power of the ley line into the cauldron, he began his part of the ritual.

Opening his eyes, he motioned with his hand and the casks that were sitting off to the side rose up in the air and moved until they were hovering over the cauldron.

In a clear, ringing voice, he proclaimed, "Water of Life, Water of the Spirit, I call upon you to anoint this felon and this fell spirit, binding them to the will of the Creator of All."

As he closed his outstretched hand, the four casks, two of uisce beatha from the Isle of Skye and two of water blessed by the Robert of Scone disappeared and the liquids mixed as they rained down into the cauldron, drenching the pair.

Looking over at the dragon, who nodded to him as the rumbling sound increased in intensity, Charlus raised the sheets and ingots of alchemical lead until they were floating over the cauldron, the ingots equally spaced around the cauldron while the two large sheets hovered over the two figures kneeling in the cauldron.

"With the fire of creation, the fire of the wyrm, and the magic of our blood I bind you, Renault de Soulis and the fell Redcap until the instrument of your destruction is at hand, or the blood that binds you releases you. Judgment and world ending await as the elements bind you, the plumbum shields you from time's decay, magic's touch or the knowledge of men, your hubris is now your prison."

As he finished the incantation, there was a moment of silence and then the great dragon who was Michael Scot breathed forth the dragon fire that symbolized the fires that were present at the creation of the world.

The ball of fire surrounded the floating ingot and they began to rain down as molten lead into the cauldron. The two great sheets became malleable and began to drip down, encasing both of the kneeling figures and they began to scream from the heat of the molten lead and the steam from the vaporizing liquids that filled the bottom third of the cauldron.

As the sheets of lead molded themselves around the pair, Aoife released the spell that immobilized them and stepped forward in time with Charlus as they both approached the cauldron.

The screams and curses from the cauldron were abruptly cut off as the last of the lead came down, creating a smooth surface less than an inch below the lip of the cauldron.

Aoife's eyes met Charlus' across the cauldron, the air shimmering between them as the heat from the molten metal rose the night sky above. Holding out their left hands, they both slid the thumb of their right hand, bearing the goblin silver ring that their mentor had given them when they were inducted into the Order and allowed the beak of the phoenix on the ring to slice open their palms.

Turning their hands palm down, they extended them over the cauldron, ignoring the blistering heat coming from the metal and said, in unison. "Blood of life, blood of magic. Seal these two until the blood of both releases them or their doom overtakes them."

As the blood touched the lead, there was a flash of light and the lead solidified into a solid mass. In the center was a pair of runes that represented both of them.

As the magical power that had gathered began to bleed off via the ley line, Charlus made a mental note to discretely inquire among some of their colleagues who lived near the fishing village of Aberdeen at the mouth of the Don and Dee rivers if they noticed anything unusual.

With the amount of power Aoife and he had raised …

Tromping hard on that thought, for it led no where but heartache and regrets, Charlus flashed Aoife one look of longing before turning his attention to their mentor, who had resumed his human form.

"Tidsear," he began, the weariness from such a making was evident in his voice. "Will this hold the felons?"

Michael walked over and placed his hand on the lead seal. He could feel the pain and the anger, very faintly, through the lead that surrounded the pair.

"Aye, it will hold. It will take the blood of both to release them." Turning to his daughter he smiled despite the glare she was sending both wizards. "The Order will know when the time is right; we will apprise you or your heirs if a need arises to release the bond."

"The plumbum working will allow them to be destroyed," Aoife spat, though wearily. "You'll not be needing to burden me …"

Breaking off at the glare on her father's, no the Master of the Order's face, she sighed and shook her head, "Pardon, Tidsear"

Before Michael could answer her, Charlus spoke.

"Since I'm neither needed nor wanted, I'll bid you both Godspeed," he said stiffly. Waving his hand and clothing himself, he nodded to Michael.

"Give my respects to your Lady Wife and your son in law, Tidsear."

Sketching a half bow, he must have activating a traveling portal because he disappeared in a whirl of colors as he stood back up.

Silence reigned for a moment before Aoife began. "Teuchter."

"Silence," Michael said wearily as he closed his eyes. He had allowed enough of his magic to accompany his speech that it became a binding rather than a request.

Opening his eyes, he waved his hand and Aoife's clothes reappeared. Walking around the cauldron, he summoned his staff to his hand and lifted the massive cauldron, now filled with lead and the two malefactors, and moved it carefully into the center of the ancient stone ring.

Letting it settle gently to the ground, he then caused the earth to swallow the cauldron, sinking it through the dirt and bedrock below that, sealing the stone over it and smoothing the dirt so that it appeared that nothing had occurred.

Turning back to his daughter, he released her and sighed wearily. "Must you vex the boy so?"

"Vex? Him? I should flay that Sassenach alive. He played with my feelings, used me …"

"Enough!" Throwing up his hands in exasperation, Michael stared at his oldest child in disbelief. "The boy proposed to you, what more do you want?"

"He proposed in front of the entire school and court during the Yule Festival," Aoife rebutted. "What kind of idiot does that? If he'd meant it, he would have asked again."

Staring at his daughter in disbelief, Michael shook his head. "The boy was over the moon in love. He had planned on asking you at Hogmanay at the house, but he decided he didn't want to make you wait."

"Only an idiot puts a woman on the spot like that. He did it because he thought he'd force me to say 'Yes' to keep from looking a fool."

"So you said 'No', crushed the boy and still looked a fool," Michael replied. "And you seriously thought he'd risk that again?"

"If he loved me …"

"You made it clear in front of everyone you knew that you weren't interested in marrying him. If all you wanted was a private proposal, you should have said so instead of trampling his heart under foot like that."

"He caught me by surprise. There was no plan, no warning …"

Taking a deep breath, Michael simply shook his head. Standing there and staring at his daughter, he simply asked, "Are you happy now?"

"I'm married now. As is he."

"Victoria had hero-worshipped Charlus since she was a wee witchling. She was fourteen that night and all she saw was the wizard of her dreams having his heart broken by a witch who couldn't let go of her ideas of how things 'should be' long enough to say yes to the man she loved. Of course she went on a one witch campaign to catch Charlus' eye."

Shaking his head, he added sadly, "And he only let her catch him after four very long years. And only after you'd said 'yes' to Selwyn."

Looking stricken, Aoife simply said, "He could have asked again."

Pausing for a moment, Michael stared sadly at his child before dismissing her with a weary wave of his hand.

"Go home to your family, child. It's late."

As she turned away, he added, "I'll give your mother your well wishes."

Aoife nodded and walked to the edge of the circle. Without turning around, she simply said, ""It wouldn't have done any good; he never would have forgiven me."

As she turned in place and disappeared with a faint 'pop', Michael stared at the spot where his daughter disappeared from. Deciding it was a nice night for a flight, he shifted back into his dragon form.

Gathering himself, before launching himself into the air, he mentally sighed.

_"That boy would have taken her back tonight, both their marriages be damned. Her pride is going to make this very difficult. The girl is so stubborn, this will take a thousand years to unravel the tangle she's made of their lives."_

Hearing the echo of his wife's thoughts, who had been listening in since he left the house, he snorted in laughter, causing a four foot jet of fire to shoot into the air.

_"She's not stubborn, love. She's simply her father's daughter."_

And with that, he launched himself into the air.

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><p><em><strong>an2 –** Tidsear – Irish Gaelic term for 'Teacher' or 'Master'. A term of respect _

_Teuchter – Scots Gaelic term usually used as we would use 'country bumpkin' or 'hayseed' in American English. Originally comes from a term meaning 'the other' or someone not from around here_

_Nine-stane Rig – a henge or stone circle on the borders between Scotland and Northumbria/England. Near the Hermitage Castle, the hereditary of the de Soulis (or de Soules in some writings) family who had an infamous member of the family who apparently sealed a bargain with a fey named Red Cap, who survived by dyeing his cap red with the blood of his victims, for power and long life. According to legend, he and Red Cap were boiled alive in oil, wrapped in lead when he was finally caught. _

_As a personal note, I visited there once. At night. I won't go back._

_a/n3 - slight spelling corrections made same day as originally published (3/7/13) Why doesn't spell check know the latin word for lead? More corrections to probably follow. _


	22. The Most Famous Song of All

**The Phoenix Syndrome  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Two – The Most Famous Song of All<strong>

_a/n – The entire Harry Potter universe is the property of JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners and no infringement upon that right is intended. Surprisingly enough, the song referenced at the end of the chapter seems to be under copyright._

_Though originally written in 1893, the song wasn't copyrighted until 1930 and the company that held the rights was purchased for $15 million in 1990 with the song in question being valued at $5 million. While the rights for the song expire in the EU and elsewhere in 2013, Warner/Chappell insists that the American copyright extends to 2030, and they very vigorously protect those rights._

_Thus the use of only a few words from the song at the end of the chapter, which falls firmly under allowable use. You'll just have to hum the rest yourself_

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><p><em>16:30 Wednesday 18 September, 2019 – DMLE Conference Room Four, Ministry of Magic, London<em>

"Precedent is clear. The revised intentions of the families involved are clear. I say we move and do it now."

Flipping over the piece of parchment in front of him, Horace Smithers looked around the table at the others who were participating in the final reviews of the cases arising out of the events of September First. The trials of the four primary defendants, Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Potter nee Weasley now Ginevra Weasley again, Pansy Parkinson, and Constantine Krum, were all provisionally scheduled, the start dates only awaiting notification of the assigned Defense Advocates for acceptance so that the initial hearings could be announced.

The fifth matter, which was legally separate from the espionage charges but was part and parcel to the entire mess, had taken on a life of its own.

Aloysius Carrenton, former head of the DMLE and the wizard brought out of retirement to prosecute these cases since they involved the current Head of the department and her Chief Auror, looked around the table and surveyed the faces of those that had gathered for this meeting.

The thought that this final case was simply the actions of an individual witch against several individuals was dismissed by the fact that Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting at the table. The fact that the Minister of Magic for the United Kingdom was sitting in showed exactly the impact of the charges being considered.

The fact that everyone gathered around the table wat involved in the lives of both Hermione Granger and Harry Potter made Aloysius acutely aware of the fact that his presence was a final bit of irony in this whole matter.

"I remember the first time I met Hermione Granger*," he said as he began. "It was about a year after the war and I had drawn the short straw and was the defense advocate for one Dolores Umbridge."

Reaching out and picking up the mug sitting in from of him, he took a sip of the tea and placed the mug back onto the warming stone set into the table.

"Not yet twenty years old, muggle born and very proud of it, a junior member of what was at the time the least influential office in the entire Ministry and she handed me my head as I tried to limit the sentence of my client.

"I knew that there was no doubt the woman was guilty, but I had hoped to use my summation to limit the amount of time she would serve in Azkaban. Hermione Granger correctly declared herself _amicus curiae_ and by the time she was finished cross-examining my client the Wizengamot would have sentenced her to the Veil and half the members would have volunteered to carry her there if Miss Granger would have asked them."

Shaking his head at the memory, he placed his hands flat on the table. "I disagreed with Harry and Hermione about their initial decision to not seek prosecution for what happened right after the war and before, but they were fairly adamant that what they had decided was in the best interest of their children."

Hearing the snort of disbelief from further down the table, he smiled at the blonde who was sitting there. "Cara, I agree and I think that they found out from their children exactly how they thought about not prosecuting this matter."

"If you thought facing Hermione Granger was a disaster waiting to happen back then," Cara Smithers said with a smirk, "then you should be glad that you'll be safely back in retirement by the time Rose Granger makes her debut. According to Hermione's own admission, the girl dismantled the arguments Harry and Hermione had marshaled, though young Lily put the final stake in the heart of the matter."

Looking at her husband, who was currently representing the Auror Corps, she gave him a significant look before she turned back to her temporary boss for this matter.

"However, despite the Auror's impassioned plea, I would like to propose a slight change." Seeing the alarmed look on Kingsley's face, she shook her head and held up her hand.

"I'm not suggesting we delay this matter or that it be put on the back burner, but that we simply wait until the morning to have the warrants executed and the accused arrested."

Before he could insist that his aurors were capable of picking the accused up today, Horace thought about his schedule for tomorrow afternoon, and the 'surprise' party that was scheduled for the afternoon in the main conference room for their Director. Shaking his head, he sighed.

"I wish you would have mentioned this earlier before we'd chipped in for a gift for the Director," he said. "While she's supposedly 'hands off' for this matter, someone needs to let the Director know to be at the Cauldron in the morning at eight if she wants to see her present wrapped up."

* * *

><p><em>7:50 19 September, 2019 – The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London<em>

While the breakfast trade at the Leaky Cauldron was always brisk, Hanna was amazed at the standing room only crowd that met her when she came in at seven this morning.

The fact that the vast majority of them were younger than her usual breakfast group during the school year, much younger in fact, told her something was going on.

And seeing that most of them were related, Hannah knew that today was the day that the person staying in room 307 would be checking out.

One way or another.

Raising an eyebrow as Tom brought out a platter with two traditional Scottish breakfasts, and remembering the time that Hermione had finally told Harry exactly what haggis was, she watched him head around the corner back to that booth where things began just a bit more than two weeks ago and deliver the plates to the current Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the current Chief Auror, neither of which looked as if they were in a hurry to get to the office.

Hearing the sounds of footsteps behind her, Hannah turned around to tell whoever it was that it might be a bit of a wait for a table, only to stop and stare.

Seeing an auror or two passing through the Leaky Cauldron wasn't surprising, most came through a couple of times if they were assigned to Diagon Alley for additional security and they knew they were always welcome. But a dozen aurors, a full team, deployed in their traditional dress uniforms wasn't a site that was seen every day.

Add to that the fact that it was Team Twelve and something very serious was going on. When aurors came calling on those rare occasions it wasn't relating to a Dark Lord or a scourge of dragons, the Auror Corps were like their elite muggle counterparts, 'One Auror, One Riot'.

Auror Commander Horace Smithers nodded to Hannah as his troops passed her, heading for the stairs leading to the upper levels and the guest rooms. As he handed her a voucher that would allow her to request reimbursement for any damages that came out of this morning's activities, he simply asked, "307?".

Nodding, Hannah barely had time to blink before he was gone, following his full team up the stairs.

Hannah barely noticed that the last auror in line stopped beside her before he started laughing.

"Aunt Hannah, what's it take for a guy to get a mug of tea around here?"

"There's pot back on your Mum and Dad's table, Teddy," Hannah said as she turned and hugged the young man. "Your Mum's also got coffee back there, but why aren't you upstairs with the rest of them?"

Just as Teddy was about to explain, a ginger whirlwind came rocketing around the edge of the bar and glomped him around his waist.

"Teddy," Lily Potter squealed as she hugged her second favorite auror. "Your wife is back at a table with Uncle George, next to the one where Daddy and Aunt Mi are sitting."

Grabbing his hand, she started pulling him to the back. Seeing that Hannah was staring at her, she smirked.

"Aunt Hannah, could you tell Tom to bring out the surprise when the rest of the aurors come down with Uncle Horace?"

And with that, Lily disappeared around the edge of the bar, a bemused Teddy Lupin in tow.

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile, upstairs in room 307<em>

Pushing her food around on the plate in front of her, Molly was in a mood.

The last six weeks had been a nightmare. Unable to believe that Ginevra had been so stupid as to have been caught, she had cautioned the girl numerous times over the years about discretion, but for the entire thing to blow up with both of her youngest ending up being arrested by the aurors was unbelievable.

Arthur's refusal to intervene, and then that disastrous meeting with the Minister had been the start of the real nightmare. That wog bitch hanging on the Minster's arm had taken one look at Arthur and began casting diagnostics on him.

The fact that she had given Arthur a dose of the potion that morning for the first time in over eighteen months meant that it was fresh in his system. Instead of convincing her husband to support her and the children, it lead to her being taken into custody and questioned.

Under Veritaserum.

And not only the truth about Arthur, but the truth about her plans with Albus to insure that Harry ended up with her daughter before the war started. Discharging her family obligation while placating Albus' 'Greater Good', her plans for making certain that Harry married and got Ginevra with a child, though not necessarily in that order, were complicated by the obvious relationship between Harry and that muggleborn bint that followed after the boys.

Though never dreaming that Ronald would actually end up married to her, ensuring she ended up with him during school to keep her out of the way was something that she could live with.

Albus' death derailed so many things, the shock of seeing him die broke the bond between Harry and Ginny and then the three of them ran off together before she could readminister the potions.

After the war, and after Harry had returned from tracking down her parents, it was child's play to start the potions again, especially with Ginevra helping this time. Ron's surprising agreement to distract the muggleborn made it simpler, with her ending up paying attention to Ron, it was easy to manipulate Harry into marrying her daughter, especially after Ginevra ensured that she would catch them in bed together,

With the exception of Ginevra marrying Harry, all of her children were such a disappointment when it came to their families.

Bill had married that dreadful French girl from that tournament, she wasn't even a real witch and neither was their daughter, Charlie had never settled down. The fact he was, at least, back in Britain was made sour by the fact that he had insisted on dragging that dreadful witch that Harry had made such a fool of himself over and their bastard to family function. His irrational behavior regarding Molly's simple request that he exercise a bit of discretion if he ever hoped to find a proper witch to marry still amazed her.

Percy went from bad to worse. He couldn't even hang on to that muggleborn Clearwater girl from Hogwarts and then ends up taking up with an American, of all things. The fact that they married within a day of meeting each other told Molly exactly what kind of girl she was.

George's only excuse for taking up with that Johnson girl was the fact that Fred had fancied her, Molly decided. The shock of Fred's death had left him unable to see that she really wasn't suitable at all.

Scowling, Molly pushed the tray back and stood from the table. It was maddening, not even being able to take a meal in the common room downstairs for all of the looks and whispers.

Forced to leave her home after over fifty years of marriage, Molly's inability to talk some sense into Arthur was maddening. The first two week, he'd been beyond her reach at a private healer facility being treated for long term exposure to potions. The day before he was supposed to come home, the day before she would have been able to convince him that this was just an overreaction on his part, three aurors showed up and while one escorted her from the property the other two began a systematic search, packing what things were hers and then delivering them to her here at The Leaky Cauldron.

And here she'd sat for the past month. Her attempts to contact the Prewetts for assistance had been rebuffed, the only reason she'd not been disavowed was the fact that she'd never been asked the source of the potions she'd used on Arthur all those years ago. Her string of Os in potions and the recommendation in her file from Horace Slughorn that she seek her Mastery in the art had led them to the conclusion that she'd brewed them herself.

Walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out her best robes, Molly decided that today was the day that she'd end this farce. Restraining order be damned, she was going back to her home and have it out with Arthur. A little resentment over something that happened over a half century ago was one thing, but he'd gone too far.

A loud knock at the door caught her attention as she shrugged into her robes. Thinking it was a bit early for someone to be coming back for the tray, though it would make sense if there were a charm on it so the kitchen help would know when you were done with it, she simply said "It's open" as she finished getting ready to go confront her husband.

However, a deep voice saying "Molly Esmeralda Prewett, my name is Auror Commander Horace Smithers and I have a warrant for your arrest," caused her to spin around and stare in disbelief.

Five aurors in dress uniforms were in her room, and she could hear the sounds of more outside in the corridor. Four of the ones in her room had their wands pointed at her, while the tall one in the center was holding out a sheaf of parchments in one hand and had a pair of manacles in the other.

Recognizing the auror in charge as the one who used to be Harry's second in command and had taken over his old team, Molly drew herself up and glared.

"Horace, you've known me long enough to know that my name is Molly Weasley. Now what's all this nonsense about?"

With a hostile glare, Horace stepped forward and handed her the parchments in his hand.

"Pursuant to your prior statements under Veritaserum, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has notified the Ministry and the Wizengamot of the summary annulment of the illegal marriage between yourself and Arthur Weasley, Head of House for House Weasley. In accordance with Wizengamot precedent, the summary annulment is comprehensive and severs all familial ties."

Staring in disbelief, Molly took the papers from the auror as she tried to comprehend exactly what he was saying. Barely feeling as the magic embedded into the warrant and declarations reacted with her magical signature, acknowledging her receipt of them for the Hall of Records, she finally shook her head.

"You can't do this. I'm the wife of Arthur Weasley …"

"Under the law, Miss Prewett," Horace cut her off before she could get started, "your marriage to the Head of House for Weasley family never existed. Neither did any relationship with other members of the Weasley family."

Before she could continue, Horace began fastening the magic suppression manacles around her wrists while Gwyneth Jones summoned her wand and promptly placed it in an evidence bag.

"Molly Esmeralda Prewett, you have been charged with Interfering with the will of the Heir of a Head of House of House Weasley by administering potions to one Arthur Weasley. You are also charged with Interfering with the will of the Head of House of House Potter, one Harry Potter, by administering potions to that individual. You are also charged with Interfering with the will of the Head of House Granger, one Hermione Granger, by administering potions to that individual. You are also charged with multiple counts of the possession, use, and profiting from the results of illegal love potions."

Taking her by the elbow, Horace began moving the protesting prisoner towards the door. As two of the aurors in the room began to search, the other two fell into place as he guided her into the corridor. The rest of the team had secured the corridor and were falling into place as they moved, though the other guests were all looking out of their doors and staring at the spectacle of one witch being arrested by an entire auror team.

As they made their way down the stairs, Molly could hear the noises coming from the common room, and tried to ready herself for the embarrassment of being walked through the common area under arrest in full view of whomever was eating breakfast there.

What she wasn't prepared for, however was what happened when she reached the foot of the stairs.

As she stepped down into the pub's common room, the sound of chairs and benches scraping against the floor hit her. As she looked around she could see that the room was packed. Packed with her children, grandchildren and family.

And as one, they had all stood and then turned so that their backs were to her as Tom, the venerable barman for the pub, exited the kitchen with a cake, covered with candles.

As Molly watched in horror as he approached the table in the back where Harry and Hermione were sitting, and almost everyone was looking, Molly noticed that one of her grandchildren was facing her.

As Tom approached the table, and the other s began to sing, Lily Luna Potter smirked at her now former grandmother as the rest of her siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and friends began to sing.

The enormity of what Molly had lost hit home as she was taken from the bar, while a simple melody stuck daggers into her heart and soul.

_"Happy Birthday to you …."_ would forever haunt her nightmares.

* * *

><p><em><strong>an2 –**__ Aloysius is referring to the events related in the story "The Trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge", though without the Harmony, of course. Even with Molly's potions, Hermione wasn't going to let the Toad get away with hurting Harry._

_**a/n3 -** edited 24 October 2013 for one continuity error (Lily Luna hasn't dyed her hair) and to correct one improper word choice caught by queseraquesara. Thanks for the catch! _


	23. Dinner, Dancing and Oh My by Candlelight

**The Phoenix Syndrome – A Tale of Rebirth, Love, and Hate**

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><p><em><strong>an** –First, my apologies. This chapter took a very long time to get out. Much too long. The first two sections came rather quickly but the final part of it took too long. I couldn't get the scene just right until it simply occurred that the problem was trying to make too much of it. _

_As always, thanks to JK Rowling for the worlds she created and it seems that I must remind everyone that anything remotely recognizable is the property of Ms Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. The two restaurants mentioned in this chapter do exist, according to a friend of mine from Penzance they're both very fine establishments. However, Alphonse is an amalgam of several maitre d's that I've met over the years. Sadly, Claire's never been able to find Greengrass' in Liverpool, but Daphne says that it's a superior establishment._

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Three – Dinner and Dancing and <strong>… <strong>Oh My by Candlelight**

_**a/n2** – This chapter references one of the few bits of 'movie canon' that I really like, even though I've never seen that particular movie._

_6:00 p.m. 19 September, 2019 – The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of W&W_

"Where do you suppose they'll go tonight," Hugo asked as most of the members of the extended Potter/Weasley/Dursley group were finishing up their evening meals. Since it was Thursday, they were gathered at the end of the Ravenclaw table closest to the doors.

"Somewhere totally romantic," Crystal said with a dreamy look on her face. "Candlelight, soft music, French cuisine," she said in a breathy voice. "And then a romantic hotel suite with rose petals …"

"Whoa," Hugo interrupted. "This is my mum you're talking about. And Uncle Harry. Let's not get carried away."

Smirking, Petunia Dursley just shook her head at her boyfriend. Leaning around him, she looked at her twin and chuckled. "Make a note Glinda, Hugo doesn't get to plan any birthdays or anniversaries."

Leaning back, she gave her boyfriend a look. "Trust me; your mum's getting swept off her feet tonight. After being treated badly for so long, Uncle Harry's going to want to make her feel very special tonight."

Holding up his hand, Hugo shook his head in denial. "No, no, no. This is my mum we're talking about. She doesn't do things like that."

Looking across the table at his cousin Lily, who was sitting there with a peculiar smile on her face as she neatly dissected the piece of roast goose on her plate, Hugo cleared his throat.

When she finally looked up at him, having learned long ago that interrupting Lily while she was eating was listed under 'a bad thing' in the family history, Hugo simply asked, "This is your dad we're talking about, why aren't you defending them like I am?"

Blinking a couple of times, Lily simply turned her head a bit and said, "Glinda?"

Trying to control a smirk, Lily Dursley nodded to her cousin. "Yes, Lily?"

"You might want to stop by the Hospital Wing and pick up a Dreamless Sleep potion for your boyfriend after dinner."

Arching her eyebrow, Lily waited for Lily Luna to disillusion her boyfriend.

"Hugo, according to the evidence, your mother 'did things like this' at least twice," Lily said, smiling at the horrified look on his face. "And judging by your sister's birth date, it was, most probably, Christmas sex."

Looking over at Rose, who was blushing furiously, she chuckled. "Aren't you just Father Christmas' little special delivery?"

As the table burst into laughter, except for Hugo who was still looking a bit distressed, Crystal waited until people were back under control before looking around.

"I'm serious, where do you think they're going?" Seeing the thoughtful look on Flora's face, she smiled.

"All right, what's our resident Slytherpuff think?"

Blinking in surprise, Flora gave Rose a mock glare since her fellow Slytherin was the only person she'd told, besides Harry, about the Sorting Hat wanting to put her in Hufflepuff before answering.

"Harry's the total closet romantic, but for her, he'll do something special and significant to them."

Seeing that everyone was looking at her, she smiled as she thought about Harry. "They can't go back to the beginning, because even Harry's not delusional enough to think that dinner in a car on the Hogwarts Express is romantic," she started ignoring James' stage whispered "Not to mention that the Trolley Lady's off until end of term," she just shook her head and continued.

"Same for that witches' lavatory he rescued her from the troll in," she added. "On top of there being nothing remotely romantic about a Hogwarts lavatory, after twenty eight years it still smells like a troll in there."

Looking over at Rose, who nodded to her, she smiled. "There's one place, one night however, where it was just them …"

* * *

><p><em>6:50 p.m. – Master Suite – Peregrine House, overlooking Otter Ferry, Scotland<em>

Hermione Granger was in a panic.

It was ten minutes until the timed portkey Harry had provided was set to go off and she was still rushing around like a schoolgirl trying to get ready for her first date.

And then it hit her, for all intents and purposes, this was her first date. At least the first date that ever really mattered.

"Luna, I'm losing it," she growled in frustration as she collapsed back onto her bed. Closing her eyes she clenched her fists.

"Why is this so difficult?"

"Because, for the first time in your life, what happens tonight actually matters." Sitting on the desk in Hermione's bedroom, Luna was kicking her feet back and forth as she watched her friend succumb to panic.

"You've been places with Harry a thousand times, from four star restaurants in Rome to that little greasy-spoon truck stop off Route 66 in Missouri, and it never bothered you because you were 'Harry & Hermione' and you knew the rules, he knew the rules, and in spite of people being rude and telling you the truth from time to time, the rest of the world knew the artificial rules that surrounded the two of you. You could go anywhere, do anything, wear anything because you were Harry & Hermione and nothing could touch that."

Seeing the Hermione was sitting up and watching her, Luna smiled and continued.

"It didn't matter when you went out with Ronald, that wasn't really real because of the potions.

"But tonight's that Hogsmeade weekend back in your third year at Hogwarts where Harry should have snuck into town, found you, and then smuggled you over to the Shrieking Shack under his cloak so that the two of you could have had that painfully shy first kiss, bumping noses and trying not to let your hands wander while you were desperately hoping his hands would wander."

Seeing the look in Hermione's eyes, Luna snickered. "It gets worse; tonight's also that scary moment in fourth year where you should have pulled Harry into an alcove or broom closet and snogged him within an inch of his life to make him forget about the dragons. Tonight's the Yule Ball when you whisper in his ear that you bought that periwinkle gown just for him."

"What if I …"

"You can't mess this up, Hermione," Luna chided softly. "Tonight is dancing naked around the Beltane fire at thirteen, your sweet sixteen party where you had to keep you Dad from interrogating him within an inch of his life, your seventeenth coming of age where you planned meticulously to have the evening alone with him, and every other milestone rolled into one because tonight's the first night that you're honestly spending with Harry."

Motioning her up, Luna pointed her wand at the garment bag that she'd brought when she arrived two hours earlier causing it to float up and hang in midair. Shaking her head at the outfit that her friend was wearing, Luna went over and opened the bag.

"Close your eyes, this will just take a second," Luna said in a sing-song voice that caused Hermione to stare at her in disbelief. Finally closing her eyes, she waited.

Smiling, Luna pulled a wizarding photograph from the bag and then cast a switching spell between the outfit that Hermione was wearing and the gown in the bag.

Looking at the picture, winking at the picture of Hermione standing on the stairs coming down from the Gryffindor witches' dorms, Luna transformed her friend's hair and makeup to an adult version of what her counterpart was wearing in the picture.

Finally conjuring a full length mirror, Luna adjusted it and stepped back, simply saying "Look."

As Hermione opened her eyes, she stared in disbelief at what she saw in the mirror before her.

Here was the gown that she had bought for Harry, all those years ago. But instead of the body of a fifteen year old bookworm praying that she could stay up on the heels her mother sent her, it was recut and styled for the body of the forty year old witch that she had become. Whereas that night it showed what was to come, somehow Luna had managed to recreate one that was the same, yet crafted for the woman she had become.

"How?" Looking over at Luna, who looked inordinately pleased with herself, she stared in disbelief as Luna pulled the hairbrush she'd misplaced a couple of weeks ago out of the bag hanging in midair and tossed it over on the bed.

"Being the responsible Deputy Headmistress that I am, I sprung Rosie from school one afternoon and let her play hooky while she nicked your brush which gave me ample material for Most Potente Potions to do its thing one more time. With a perfect 'you' for the fittings, and Helen letting me borrow the original gown from the house in Oxford because you knew if you kept it here Ronald would have destroyed it years ago, we were able to do this."

Walking over, Luna clasped a bracelet around Hermione's wrist, the bracelet that contained the portkey to her first date / birthday dinner with Harry. As she leaned up and brushed her lips against Hermione's cheek, very carefully so as not to ruin her makeup, Luna whispered in her ear.

"Just let it happen. Tonight's the night for the two of you that you should have had years ago. Tonight it's only Harry and Hermione."

As she stepped back, Luna could see from the look on Hermione's face, she just realized something about the switch that Luna had performed. As the blue light from the portkey began to flash, Luna simply smirked.

"The dress was designed to look perfect on the body I was wearing. The fact that I wasn't wearing anything but the dress when they did the final fittings means you're not wearing anything but the dress for the grand unveiling."

Luna's smirk was the last thing a gobsmacked Hermione saw as she was whisked away by the portkey to wherever Harry was waiting for her.

A gobsmacked and very regimental Hermione.

Shaking her head, Luna simply wanded out the lights as she proceeded to lock up the house for her friend.

* * *

><p><em>7:00 p.m. – A Clearing in the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire, England<em>

Blinking her eyes in surprise, Hermione looked around and stared in disbelief.

The portkey that Harry had crafted to take her to the location of their first real date deposited her in the middle of a clearing in a forest. While the clearing looked somewhat familiar, the tent that was pitched on the other side of the clearing was definitely familiar having been their home for nine months during their desperate hunt for the horcruxes.

"Happy Birthday Mi."

Turning around, Hermione saw Harry standing behind her, a single red rose in his hand dressed in a suit that she remembered wheedling him into buying last year for a formal dinner they had to attend. The look on his face was the same one he had the night of the Yule Ball when he realized that the girl on Viktor Krum's arm was his best friend.

Taking a step forward, she blushed at the intensity of the look he was giving her. As he shyly handed her the rose, he began to speak.

"I think I've regretted every time I haven't listened to you," he began regaining the lopsided smile she knew so well.

"But here, when I think of what could have been, I sincerely regret not listening to you that day."

Suddenly, her mind's eye jumped back to that day on the hunt, the day when she asked him …

"Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old …"

Nodding, Harry's eyes got a bit brighter from the tears that appeared. "We couldn't have stayed, even if we'd known everything that was to follow. But as soon as he was … gone we should have come straight back here. Just the two of us."

Taking the rose from his hand, she stepped into his hug and whispered in his ear, "Forever?"

"At least until we had to go fetch Alex and Helen," he replied holding her tightly to him.

Kissing her warmly on the cheek, Harry turned her around and steered her towards the opening to the tent.

Taking a moment to inhale the scent of the rose, Hermione smiled as she squeezed Harry's hand.

"Harry, despite the anger I feel towards Molly, Ginevra, and Ronald, we owe them a debt," she said as they stepped into the tent.

"Six, actually," Harry replied as he escorted her towards the dining area in the back.

The tent only vaguely resembled what it had looked like during the dark days of their frantic Horcrux hunt. The charms that made it bigger on the inside than on the out had been renewed and extended, giving it, almost an airy open feel. While not claustrophobic originally, Hermione's eyes widened at the vaulted ceiling over their heads as they made their way into the tent.

The kitchen had been modernized, the furnishings replaced, the musty smell that never seemed to be totally gone had finally been banished. Instead of huddling around the small little table to plan, study or talk, there was now an open area with comfortable furnishings that would have rivaled the Hufflepuff common room, much less Gryffindor's.

As Harry led her towards the table that was set for two, they crossed across a ten foot square of inlaid wood before reaching their destination.

Snorting in disbelief, Hermione shook her head. "Actually Harry, the answer's now seven. I just realized that, while we've cheated a bit, we're caught up to Molly and Arthur and we need only five more for part of that ridiculous prophecy of Trelawney's to come to fruition."

Seeing the look on his face, she smiled as she patted his arm. "Flora's as much a part of the family as any of the others, I wouldn't want to have to explain to either Rose or Lily if she were to ever leave. She's 'Daddy's girl' just like her sisters."

"All four of my girls are special," Harry replied as he leaned over and tenderly kissed her on the cheek. "But as much as I love those three, tonight's all about you and us."

Pulling the chair out from the table, Harry waited for her to gracefully fold herself into it before gently moving it closer to the table.

As Hermione settled into her seat, the lighting dimmed and the two candles on the table lit themselves, gently illuminating the scene.

Harry, moving around the table to take his own seat, waved his hand and a bottle of wine appeared on the table.

Looking at the bottle, Hermione's eyebrow raised as she smiled. "The Feathers?"

"Well, it is your favorite place in Oxfordshire," Harry replied with a grin as he picked up the bottle of Pinot Noir. "I thought choosing the Fenton would give the game away."

As he deftly poured a glass for each of them, Hermione noticed the small circular disk with the stylized 'G' embossed into it that had appeared with the bottle. "You must have done some serious arm twisting, as far as I know Greengrass' never let those out of the restaurant."

"Daphne's still threatening to turn one of us into a wine snob, eventually," Harry replied as he carefully sat the bottle down on the rune covered silver coaster. Subtly enchanted, the coaster was practical application of the work Daphne had done to achieve her Masteries in both Runes and Arithmancy. While her thesis "Intelligent Runic Arrays" was as technical and dry as it sounded, the fact that she chose for her practical demonstration a simple device that adjusted its temperature to the type and quality of the container of liquid that was resting upon it and kept that container at the optimum temperature was a typically Greengrass flourish.

Close to a thousand pages of calculations, diagrams and theory showcased by a simple device that could show off just what an 'artificial magical intelligence' could do. Whether it was a carafe of hot chocolate kept warm enough not to burn, butterbeer at the proper temperature for drinking, or a bag of plasma kept at body temperature for transfusing, it didn't matter to the runic arrays that Daphne had created.

The fact that she, in typical Greengrass style, presented it to the committees evaluating her applications for her Mastery in both Runes and Arithmancy using a simple beer coaster from the Lion Tavern in Liverpool as her practical highlighted both her brilliance with the subjects in question and her opinion of the more hidebound committee members she'd been saddled with.

The looks on the faces of a quartet of closet Pure Blood supremacists who remembered the Edwardian age first hand fiddling with a muggle beer coaster tested her 'Ice Queen of Slytherin' persona to the limits as she was tempted to giggle as Madame Uriana Selwyn finally admitted defeat as she quickly switched between a vial of Dreamless Sleep potion, a carafe of pumpkin juice, and a pot of Scottish Breakfast tea, all of which were kept at the perfect temperature.

"I'm still wondering what you had to pledge to get the Colonel to let a set of those outside the restaurant," Hermione said as she watched Harry expertly open the bottle of wine.

Seeing the blush on Harry's cheeks, Hermione started giggling. "You didn't?"

As he sat himself across from her and the lights subtly began to dim themselves, Harry simply shrugged. "Actually, I didn't. Rosie handed it to me a couple of days ago. While she apparently has 'leverage' with young Master Scorpius, she went through her Ancient Runes professor and convinced Astoria Malfoy that we could be trusted not to deconstruct them for such an auspicious occasion."

Seeing that Hermione was tapping the disk with a carefully manicured fingernail with a thoughtful look on her face, Harry cleared his throat, grabbing her attention.

"Rosie told them we wouldn't reverse engineer the runes on the medallion, Mi. You'll just have to go back to trying to wheedle the secrets to it out of Daphne," Harry said with a smile as Hermione suddenly looked a bit guilty as she quickly withdrew her hand.

Chuckling at the look on her face, Harry picked up the pair of menus from the table and passed one over to Hermione. Seeing the arched eyebrow in response to the menu from their favorite place in the Cotswolds, a restored manor house that catered to those wanting the whole 'Lord of the Manor' experience, Harry simply focused on his choices for dinner.

"You know Alphonse is going to be insufferable the next time we stay," Hermione said casually as she perused the menu. "Oh, the salmon is back on."

Trying not to groan as he imagined the reaction of the maitre d' of the dining room there, Harry simply said, "Well, at least this will stop the argument as to whose room dinner gets charged to."

Remembering the scathing disbelief over the years that the smug Alphonse, whose real name was 'Tim' but he assumed his maitre d' persona like a uniform and had huffed "an establishment such as this cannot have a maitre d' named 'Tim', it's just not done," when Hermione had called him on it years ago, had always expressed when the two of them had checked into separate, but adjoining, suites, she simply shrugged.

"He's the son of a squib, once he sees the write-up in _The Prophet_, he'll be worse than Draco," Hermione remarked as she looked over the rest of the menu. "And you're not having the pigeon tonight."

"But …" Harry began before he remembered the last time they'd eaten there. "Fine, but it is the best black pudding around."

"Harry James, unless you're planning on sleeping somewhere other than where I'm planning on you sleeping tonight, you're not having black pudding for dinner."

Seeing the smirk on his face, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, don't sit there and tell me you haven't been planning …"

"I thought we'd simply see what happens later," Harry replied with sincerity. "No assumptions, no pressures. This is a new beginning and I was sincere when I said we could do this however you wanted."

Pausing for a moment, he added, "And just how will _The Prophet_ add to Alphonse's insufferability?"

"Is that even a word?"

"Quit stalling, why will he be more annoying than normal? The man makes being supercilious an art form."

"True," Hermione conceded. "I always wanted to check and see if his mother was related to the Prince family."

Seeing that Harry was staring at her in disbelief, Hermione laughed. "Think about it, once he reads the article detailing the fact that now we were never married …" Trailing off, Hermione laughed again as Harry facepalmed when he thought about how their 'favorite' maitre d' would react since he had always contended that they were not married to other people and were playing some strange game pretending to be.

"Please, it'll be the first day of Potions all over again," Harry said as he imagined their reception the next time they stayed there. Especially with them only booking one suite next time. "We could always mess with him and book two suites as usual?"

Seeing the icy glare coming across the table, Harry acknowledged defeat and let the subject drop. Turning his attention back to the menu, he simply asked, "Lamb?"

"Garlic," Hermione replied without looking up, though a smile appeared as she made her decision. "I'm thinking the Bass. Their bouillabaisse dressing is very well done; even Gabby liked it that time she was there."

Seeing the look on Harry's face, Hermione smiled and reached across to pat his hand gently. "She behaved herself, for the most part, that weekend."

"I still haven't figured out exactly how she just 'happened' to have booked a suite at the same place as us. In the Cotswolds, no less. It's not like that's the sort of place that appeals to her."

"Either the beef or the turbot, you like both," Hermione replied as she placed the menu back on the table. "And you know exactly 'how', or rather 'whom'. Victoire told her aunt about Ronald throwing a fit because we were going to be away and Gabrielle decided to play 'chaperone'."

Remembering the fit that Ronald threw about them staying at the Manor each year while they attended a Runes conference held in nearby Stow-on-the-Wold, Harry shrugged. "I think the beef tonight. Though I'm not entirely certain how much peace of mind having Gabby as a chaperone was for him."

Smirking, Hermione tapped her choices in the menu and laid it back on the table. Seeing Harry do the same, she reached back over and took his hand.

"The fact that it's less than a fifty minute drive from my parents' house didn't help," Hermione conceded. "Though I seem to remember he liked us staying there together even less."

"I didn't arrange all of this for us to spend your birthday discussing other people's bad behavior," Harry began lightly. Seeing the arched eyebrow, he quickly added, "Nor did I set this up to discuss our 'bad' behavior." Pausing for a moment he added, "Unless you really want to?"

A witty retort was halfway to her lips before Hermione suddenly realized what was happening. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and thought for a second.

As she reopened them, she could see Harry was looking at her with a look of concern. Smiling warmly, she squeezed his hand.

"We're doing everything but what we should," she said in a quiet voice. Seeing that he was about to speak, she squeezed his had affectionately and continued.

"Luna was wrong earlier. We're not fourteen. This isn't a first date or a Hogsmeade weekend or anything else like that. We're both scared spitless because we're about to cross a line that we've never crossed before. A line that we can't come back from once we've crossed it."

Sitting back, but leaving his hand on the table with Hermione's covering it, Harry looked shocked for a second before sheepishly nodding in agreement.

"But it's not," he began hesitantly. "This isn't a line we're crossing; we're simply acknowledging what has been the truth for most of our lives."

Seeing the surprised look on her face, he turned his hand resting on the table until he was grasping hers. "Regardless of what the potions made us feel for them, what we had was always there. We never acted upon it, but that doesn't mean it wasn't there, that it wasn't real."

Getting up from his chair, Harry kept his hold on Hermione's hand as he knelt beside her chair. Reaching down with his free hand, he retrieved the small box he had picked up from his vault in Gringotts and smiled at the gobsmacked look on her face.

"Hermione, twenty eight years ago you wandered into my life. You've been there almost every day since, and not once have I regretted the fact that you chose to open the door to that compartment on the train and storm into my life. The scared little boy you found that day is screaming in the back of my head that I'm about to mess things up, that I'm rushing you, but I think we've simply been waiting for a this chance since that moment."

Seeing her eyes get even wider, Harry smiled as he brought up the small velvet covered box and opened it. "Thankfully, this ring that belonged to my mother was 'unsuitable' but I think it was more the witch that wasn't suitable than any fault of the ring's. If you're willing, and if you're ready, I would consider it an honor if you'd accept this ring as a token of my intent to spend the rest of my life with you, to be your husband."

Taking a deep breath, he added, "That is, if you're willing to marry me."

Frozen in shock, Hermione's mind was racing in a thousand different directions at once. That sensible voice in the back of her head was shouting _"It's too soon"_ in direct competition with another voice crowing _"Finally!"_ as the inner giddy schoolgirl she never really allowed herself to be was doing cartwheels in celebration.

Thoughts of _"What will the children say"_ warred with _"Rose will kill me if I blow this"_. _"What will people think"_ was overwhelmed by _"Who the bloody Hell cares, He's **mine!**"_. Shaking herself, Hermione took a deep, cleansing breath and then released it as she nodded to Harry.

"For the record, yes," she started as Harry slipped the engagement ring on the proper finger.

Standing up, Hermione drew Harry from his spot by her chair and wrapped her arms around him. Staring deep into his eyes, she smiled radiantly.

"Even though I was scared to death, I had this … vision in my head about how tonight would go. Dinner, then dancing, and maybe a romantic moonlit stroll," she babbled as she searched his eyes.

"But now, I find all of that way overrated."

Looking a bit confused, Harry started to say something when Hermione pulled him towards her and started to kiss him.

Feeling his surprise, she tightened her arms around him and began to pour all of the emotions she had been feeling into it, trying to show Harry exactly what she was feeling.

Twenty-eight years and it all led up to this one moment.

Their tongues dueled for dominance as the kiss deepened and Hermione tried to mold herself against Harry's body. Mentally thanking Luna for her foresight in having the dress custom fitted, she tried to memorize the sensation of Harry against her as she held him tighter.

Letting her hands slide up Harry's back, reveling in the feel of his muscles beneath the tailored suit, she pulled him close as they broke the kiss due to the need for oxygen.

"Harry …" Looking deep into his eyes, she could see the passion and love there. As the emerald color deepened, she nodded slowly up at him as she placed a finger on his lips to keep him from interrupting her.

"There is no better place, there is no better time. It can't be 'too soon' because it can't be soon enough. Almost twenty eight years ago, I started to tell you that the things we had were more important than anything else. Friendship, and bravery … and love. Those are the things we've shared since the beginning and they're the things we'll share and celebrate forever more."

Pausing for a moment, she blushed and lowered her eyes before continuing.

"In a second, I'm going to stop blathering. When that happens you're going to do what you do best. Dinner can wait, dancing can wait. Nothing else matters."

As he opened his mouth, she shook her head. "The children will be fine with this. Unless you want to be the one to tell our daughters that your intentions towards me aren't of a carnal nature."

Chuckling, Harry bent down and swept her into his arms, bridal style. As he carried her towards the door that led to the bedroom, where he could see the flickering candlelight, he simply said, "Heaven forbid. The last thing we need is 'The Talk' from our teenage daughters."

As Hermione's laughter pealed through the tent until Harry kicked the door closed behind him, the candles in the dining area slowly faded out.

Outside, as the moon rose over the Forest of Dean, the ghostly form of an owl shimmered into existence on a branch of an ancient oak tree overhanging the tent. Settling in, the spectral form of a snowy owl kept watch as her humans finally finished what they had started all of those years ago.

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><p><em>an3 - edited for minor corrections on 10/1/2013 - thanks to alix33 for the timely observations of my usual lack of skills. You're a Godsend!_

_a/n4 - a/n3 corrected on 10/2/2013 to reflect the fact I had the wrong date down. which is why I now pay things online and very rarely use my checkbook. It's only been 2013 for nine full months, you'd think I'd get it correct by now. Thanks to all who pointed that out._


	24. If this is Friday, this must be Heidelbe

**The Phoenix Syndrome – A Tale of Rebirth, Love, and Hate**

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><p><em><strong>an -** As always, the entirety of the HP universe belongs to JK Rowling and her merry band of corporate partners. No infringement of copyright, everything in the Potterverse is the property of it's rightful license holders. _

**Chapter Twenty Four – If this is Friday, this must be Heidelberg**

_Moonrise-Friday 20 September, 2019 – Saint Michael's Monastery on the Heiligenberg near Heidelberg FRG_

While there were worse ways to regain consciousness, being backhanded across the face while tied to a chair was definitely in Archimedes Carrenton's top five of ways not to return to the waking world. As he rocked back from the force of the blow, he could see that he definitely wasn't in the Hexenturm, the last place he remembered being,

Having 'arranged' to meet a young witch from the University in the historic Hexenturm or Witch's Tower near the university, though Archie was honest enough with himself that young Gretchen had been the one to make the arrangements, which should have been a sign that all wasn't as it should be, the last thing he remembered was stepping into the upper chamber of the old tower and glancing at the view of the castle being lit by spotlights before his world dissolved down into darkness.

"Greetings, Monsieur Carrenton," came a gruff voice that immediately raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Blinking to clear the stars still clouding his vision from that blow that had awakened him, Archie turned his head to the left towards the voice and froze momentarily.

Of all the people in the world that he could imagine, the last one he would want to see while helpless was Marko Ramius. A quick mental inventory told him that his Occlumency shields were still intact, if they'd been compromised while he was unconscious all he would have found would have been tatters rather than the intact shields he found, so he steeled himself for either physical abuse or a grueling mental session while Ramius battered his way into his mind.

Leaning back against the prayer rail, Ramius watched the younger man. Nodding his approval, there were no vain struggles against the constraints, no panic in his eyes. No signs of a traitor that had been uncovered. Simply a subtle sense of fear, and Marko conceded that such a reaction was justified, considering his 'reputation'. Though he chuckled as he remembered his grandfather's assertion that if you could back it up, it wasn't reputation, simply the character of a man. Considering his grandfather's 'character' during the decades long struggles with both the Poles and the Soviets, Marko simply smiled and watched his captive carefully.

Please to see that his captive didn't flinch or look away, he simply began talking, as if they were two old comrades having tea together.

"Mr. Carrenton, I realize that this is a bit extreme, but I needed a conversation with you, and I really didn't have time to go through the proper channels to arrange it," Marko said pleasantly as he crossed his arms in front of him, trying to look less threatening to the younger man.

Seeing the wary look, Marko shrugged. "I would prefer that our mutual acquaintance Monsieur Dolohov not learn of this little chat."

Carefully nodding, and taking the man's last statement as an indication he was going to live long enough to think about informing Dolohov, Archie took a deep breath and immediately regretted it due to the pain in his jaw.

"Of course, this is totally between you and me," Archie began. But before he could go any further, Ramius held up his hand and interrupted.

"Actually, the whole point of this is that I want you to relate this conversation, verbatim, to a couple of individuals."

Opening his mouth, Archie's conscious mind decided to overturn his subconscious' decision to ask the volatile terrorist "Are you barking mad?" and simply closed his mouth and nodded. Marko Ramius, a man who had lived in the shadows for over half a century, wouldn't be asking him to do anything that would bring this to official notice. That would be beyond folly.

Unfortunately, for Archie, folly seemed to be the order of the day as the next words out of the volatile wizard's mouth were, "I want you to relate this to your father and his mudblood protégé."

The next thing Archie knew after asking if the man was barking mad was being jolted back to consciousness by a resounding backhand blow to the other side of his face.

Blinking in astonishment, Archie's mind was too busy doing an internal inventory to prevent him from blurting out, "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say that I was to relate this conversation to my father and Director Granger."

Returning to his place sitting on the prayer rail, Marko nodded smugly. "Though from the rumors swirling around, she may be Director Potter by the time you can arrange an audience with them, that's exactly what I'm requiring." Seeing the gobsmacked look, simply smiled.

"Consider yourself a post owl that they can't ignore. The fact that I remove you as a piece available to those pathetic idiots in your homeland to utilize is simply a bonus."

Archie listened with fascination and horror as Marko Ramius, a man wanted as a cold-blooded killer, terrorist, and the most strident of Pureblood Supremacists in all of Europe laid out a desperate plan being put into place in Britain that would rip down the veil that the Statutes of Secrecy had kept around the magical world and force open warfare between magical and mundane Britain.

"As you can see," Marko finished a jovial tone of voice as if he were simply recounting a less than expertly played quidditch match he had observed, "those idiots are banking their entire strategy on the assumption that your society will turn to them once the burnings begin again."

Thinking furiously, Archie parsed out what he had just heard. The plan was reasonably well detailed, but specifics as to 'who' and 'when' were lacking. Since the 'where' was freely given, at least the 'where' as it regarded putting their plan into motion, it bolstered the fact that Ramius wanted them to succeed. The 'why' was obvious but laughable.

If things played out as the blood purists planned it depended upon the Ministry's ability to convince the British government that this was a rogue operation by a few deluded individuals as to how it would proceed. It would either see British populace fearful and distrustful of the newly revealed magical world or a massive retaliation against the entire magical population of Britain.

And the ICW's reaction to the fact that the magical world was revealed by murder and mayhem would probably only make matters worse if this wasn't handled correctly.

As for the 'how' …

"Do they really think they'll be able to reason with de Soulis after eight centuries of confinement?"

"They're hoping to point him in the direction of their enemies and unleash a thoroughly mad warlock and an insanely murderous Fey Lord on them." A grim smile graced Ramius' lips as he added, "Personally, I think that the fools will be ripped limb from limb the moment the pair are freed from the bindings, but that doesn't change the fact that excuses of 'gas main explosions', 'swamp gas', or 'effects of global warming' won't be able to cover up the carnage that will follow as they run rampant across the lands."

"Fey Lord?"

"That's the best translation into your English that I can come up with. There are red caps, murderous sprites who haunt the wild places of the earth. Most of them have followed the rest of the Fey into exile when the elven hosts retreated from the world, though a few still remain in the desolate wastes. Red Cap, however, is one of the lords of the Unseelie Court."

"The Unseelie Court is generally thought to be a myth," Archie said carefully. "A fiction that the Seelie Court uses to cover misbehavior on the part of its members."

Throwing back his head and laughing, Ramius reveled in the thoughts of such destruction and chaos that such naivety would allow for a moment before addressing his companion.

"The Unseelie Court is very real and very dangerous, of that there's no doubt. And that fool de Soulis struck a bargain with their executioner to regain his powers and gain his revenge upon magical Britain."

"And they …" pausing for a moment, Archie watched as the older man's eyes narrowed before he continued. "And these people are conspiring to release the two of them?"

"I won't violate the oaths I've sworn, even to save everything from destruction," Marko said in a conversational tone. "I have no plans of having my magic stripped from me to make your life easier. These fools need to be stopped, and I'm telling you all that I can. Your father and his pet have the tools and the information to track this down, if they simply realize it."

Thinking for a moment, Archie moved all of the pieces back and forth in his mind as he tried to sort out all of the things that Ramius had told him. On the face of it, he wasn't certain why he should trust the man who was rumored to have taken paranoia to an art form,

On the other … "Dolohov won't be happy when my usefulness comes to an end," Archie said in a deadpan manner, as if he were discussing something of no great import to himself. "And you know the greatly reduced lifespan of people that he doesn't consider 'useful'."

Giving the younger man a measured stare, Ramius visibly wrestled with answering before he said, "I'm sending you back to Britain, young man. If you stay there, you should be 'safe' from young Dolohov. He is more of a realist than he is dedicated to the cause."

Shrugging, he added, "Since I plan on returning home and shoring up the defenses of my colleagues and myself once I bid you adieu, I sincerely doubt that either of us will see him again once this plays out back in Britain. Monsieur Dolohov is an opportunist, and whether or not the Ministry there is able to stop this disaster, there will be no 'opportunities' for him in Britain for quite a while."

Acknowledging the truth of that statement, as a known supporter of the supremacists in Britain Dolohov would be on the 'hex first and then question' list as soon as events started to play out, Archie simply asked, "When do I leave?"

Somehow, he wasn't surprised at the "When you wake up" which came just before the darkness claimed him again.

* * *

><p><em>2340 20 September, 2019 – Secure medical wing, His Majesty's British Embassy, 70 Wilhelmstrasse, Berlin<em>

An unfamiliar beeping sound accompanied Archie Carrenton to consciousness as he slowly became aware. Hurting in places he hadn't hurt since the Hogwarts Quidditch finals his seventh year, he quickly deduced that he was in a muggle medical facility through the smells and sounds. While the quality of the bed and linens seemed truly universal to every medical facility he'd ever been to, no matter how much cleaning they did, muggles didn't seem to be able to totally cover the smell of a hospital.

Just as he was marshalling his thoughts to have a suitable excuse ready for the German muggle authorities, or the local Elector's proctor if the local magicals had tumbled to his presence, a familiar voice cut through the haze and his eyes snapped open in shock.

"Archimedes Reginald Jameson Carrenton, what the hell were you thinking," Mercy growled out in a tone that was just a couple of degrees above 'glacial'. "You were supposed to be in Heidelberg tonight and you end up, starkers, upside down, painted in runic patterns with actual bloody woad tied to a six inch diameter oaken stake that appeared out of nowhere embedded into the floor of the atrium of the bloody British Embassy in Berlin."

Staring in disbelief, Archie could see that Mercy was standing in the doorway to the room he was in, with an armed British Marine standing beside her. Her face pale, she was clearly furious with him.

Turning to the young woman beside her, she smiled thinly. "Corporal Abbot, if you would be so kind as to tell Mr. Davies that I've got the situation under control now. I'll debrief Mr. Carrenton and we'll be leaving for London on the first available transport."

Seeing the knowing smile on the guard's face, she nodded stiffly. "Yes, I'll be making travel arrangements. Tell the Matron that we probably won't bother checking with her on our way out, so she can mark him AMA."

As Mercy stepped into the room, she held up her hand to forestall any questions. Waiting until the door closed and locked, she stared at him in disbelief for a moment before crossing to the bed and taking one of his hands between both of hers and sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.

"How long ago was it that you were going spare because I was simply eating in the same room as Marko bloody Ramius," she began in a quiet, controlled voice. "And yet, tonight, you show up out of the bloody blue, bound to a carved totem of Kolera, with runic patterns inscribed on your body in woad mixed with blood that has Ramius' magical signature all over them."

Sighing theatrically, Archie summoned up a smile and shocked her again by winking at her. Seeing that she was about to explode, he simply said, "I suppose that's what happens when one ends up having an impromptu meeting with Ramius and finding out that he agrees with you, unknowingly, on one thing."

Taking a deep breath, he concluded by saying, "It seems that it's time to come in from the cold. You need to schedule a meeting with my father and Director Granger for me, and it needs to be as soon as humanly possible."


	25. Balance, Equality, and Chaos

**The Phoenix Syndrome – A Tale of Rebirth, Love, and Hate  
><strong>

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><p><em><strong>an –** Alas, the Harry Potter universe is still the property of JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. I'm only lamenting that fact because it means that I have to write yet another disclaimer to remind folks that I have no claim to this milleau. No infringement is intended or implied by this work of fanfiction. Also, if there is a fishing vessel named 'The Neptune' which sails out of Brettveig Norway, I'm not ill wishing you but you might want to avoid the waters to the north of Shetland Island in the autumn of 2019._

_Just in case._

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Five – Balance, Equality, and Chaos<strong>

_0800 Saturday 21 September, 2019 – Minister of Magic's Office, The Ministry, London UK_

"What do you mean we don't know where they are?"

Halfway out of her chair, Mercy Hendrecks was staring at the Minister of Magic in disbelief.

"This is Hermione Bloody Granger we're talking about. She's so dependable the Department of Mysteries sets the timestone at Greenwich according to when she comes to work. You can count the number of days she's missed on one hand, and that's counting two pregnancies."

Turning her attention to Cara, Hermione's longtime assistant who was smirking, she growled, "How can you not know where the bloody director is?"

"Actually, the Minister misspoke," Cara said with a twinkle in her eyes. "The Director is with her Chief Auror." Pausing for a moment, she added with a smile, "We simply have no idea where the Chief Auror is."

Waiting as the other witch sank back into her chair, she added, "And it would take an Order from the Crown to get anyone in the Department to go looking for them."

Snorting in amusement, Archie looked over at Cara and winked. "I can just imagine that conversation. 'I say, your Highness, we need a Royal Decree to search for a pair of your civil servants who have managed to get themselves off the grid for the first time in well over two decades. And both of them are Peers of the Realm to boot, so if you'd just give us leave to disturb them we'd be much obliged."

Turning to his father, Archie saw the smile on his face and chuckled. "I take it you approve of these two being wherever it is they are?"

"Miss Hendrecks," Aloysius Carrenton said in his best 'elder statesman' voice, "The Chief Auror and the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement went to an undisclosed location to celebrate Director Granger's fortieth birthday Thursday evening.

"Friday morning, I received a patronus message from Director Granger indicating that she and Chief Auror Potter were taking a personal day on Friday for the discussion of 'personal' matters. Since no one currently working for the Ministry could remember when the both of them had taken a personal day, much less together, I was more than happy to log it and pass along the message that they would be at the Monday morning staff meeting as per usual and they would both take it as an immense personal favor if the Department could manage to run itself until then."

"But …"

"And I expect the next time I speak with my boss or see either of them will be in the DMLE briefing room at exactly nine Monday," Cara said with steel in her voice. "If there's an emergency with one of the children, I have ways of getting in contact with both of them, regardless, but unless you've got a Writ signed by the King hisself, I am not interrupting what I sincerely hope is going on."

Turning her attention to Archie, whom she knew the better of the two, she added, "And since I'm hoping that she'll need to have one of those hover chairs that George Weasley invented to float her into the room and that we'll need an adamantine pry bar to get the smile of Chief Potter's face when they show up, is what you've got honestly important enough to interrupt them?"

"Unfortunately," Archie said hesitantly, "it very well could be." Seeing the disbelieving look on Cara's face, he sighed. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not the same twit I was back at Hogwarts. I'll admit that there was a time I'd simply gin up an excuse to justify getting what I wanted, but this …"

Looking over at Mercy, who was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that, to her way of thinking, everyone had bloody lost their minds, Archie saw that his companion was going to be of no help so he plunged ahead with what, he hoped, was the correct choice to get some assistance with this oncoming crisis.

"I ended up having an unscheduled chat with Marko Ramius last evening," he began in a tone of voice one would use for having popped out to the market for something inconsequential. "Have you three been read in on the security incident at the British Embassy in Berlin late last night?"

Seeing the puzzled frowns on their faces, Archie sighed and shrugged. "Eventually, the word will leak, but in short, there was an incident in the atrium of the British Embassy in Berlin. Out of thin air, a twelve inch in diameter oak post carved as a totem for a pre-Christian demon of death and pestilence appeared out of thin air, embedded into the marble floor with a nude man bound to it who was covered in woad."

Brushing at the cuff of his jacket, he chuckled, "Damn stuff takes forever to wear off," as he scrubbed at the faint blue stain on his wrist. Ignoring the shocked look on Cara's face and his father's eyeroll, Archie continued with his story,

"Long story short, Ramius kidnapped me in Heidelberg, told me of a plot here in Britain and insisted that I brief my father and Director Granger about it, and then dumped me in the middle of the Embassy to ensure that I had no choice but to come into the light and run his little errand.

"Apparently while Dolohov is out of the loop on this one, a group of pure blood fanatics are planning on unleashing an eight hundred year old warlock named de Soulis and a fey lord who is bound to him with a proscribed ritual who have been magically imprisoned on non-magical Britain in an effort to bring down the Statutes and force the Ministry to take over the Kingdom and turn to them to prevent the reprisals they feel are certain to come."

Pausing to take a deep breath, he looked over at Mercy who was glaring at him. "Well, I think this went well. Shall we tottle off and see if we can scare up a cuppa and some breakfast? We've got reservations at the Hyperion for half one, so it's probably a bad idea to overindulge before we overindulge."

"Archimedes Reginald Jameson Carrenton," Mercy began in a very controlled voice, "we are not even close to being done. You can't just waltz into the presence of the Minister of Magic, tell him that there's a major plot brewing to bring down the Statutes and then blissfully waltz back out in search of brekkers without as much as a by your leave."

Sighing theatrically, after giving his father a look and receiving the traditional 'Can't help you with this one, son,' look that fathers know to give their sons when they're treading perilously close to stepping across some line with the woman in their lives, Archie turned his attention to the Minister, who was both annoyed and amused.

"Minister Shacklebolt, you are currently in possession of every fact that Ramius gave me regarding this threat. While he was very liberal with facts about the actual threat, he considered himself both honor and oath bound when it came to not revealing the current location of the warlock in question, the exact timing of the event other than 'imminent', and the specific identities of the individuals who are conspiring to release him from durance vile."

Turning his attention to his father, he smirked and said, "Since he was very insistent that I brief you and your protégé, I'm going to assume that there's some tidbit that she's in possession of that will unravel this since you don't seem to have any secret insights into this situation."

"Archie …" Shaking his head, Aloysius gave the Minister a quick look before turning his attention back to his son. "We've had this conversation before over the years …"

"Yes, yes," Archie waved his hand in dismissal. "Ms Granger wanted it more. I never settled down. I was a ne'er do well who never tried." Turning his attention to Mercy, he smiled winningly.

"I've changed my mind, overindulgence might be called for. Want to see if the Hyperion Club will let us in early? Supposedly they poached the chef from the Dorchester and they now have the most decadent breakfast menu in London."

Holding up her hand, Cara looked over at the Minister for a moment before turning her attention back to Mercy.

"Take the boy to breakfast. Take him … wherever," she said as she pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down at the notes she had taken. "Archie, just go over everything he said while you're doing whatever it is the two of you are going to be doing. There has to be something. And if we don't know anything more, I'll try to contact them tomorrow after breakfast and have them back in here by lunch."

"Brunch," Archie said as he stood and leaned over to shake the Minister's hand. "Minister Shacklebolt, I'm not being flip or difficult, but with men like Ramius I've found that they very rarely do anything by accident and if he insisted that Director Granger be notified and he took the time to tell us of this plot, then he's very certain she can provide the missing pieces that will avert this from happening.

"And since Ramius has spent the last quarter century very successfully thumbing his nose at the magical governments from the Caucasus Mountains to Iceland, I'm going to bank on the fact that he knows what he's doing and hope to get Granger involved at the earliest moment we can."

Turning his attention to his father, Archie sobered for a second before speaking.

"You were correct, until the past several years I've not taken anything very seriously. I've done some things very well," he said ignoring the snort from both Cara and Mercy, "and a few of them didn't involve debauchery or being a scandalous reprobate.

"My sister was a much better choice for the firm than I was, if you'd been able to guilt or blackmail me into it back in the day I probably would have gone around the twist quite a number of times."

Taking a deep breath, he chuckled and smiled at Cara, who was staring at him with a gobsmacked expression.

"And once you and Potter got Granger to stop playing at rescuing her elves and work on rescuing the entire bloody country, she was a much better choice than I for the Department so I think that decision went swimmingly as well."

Taking Mercy by the arm, he sketched a half bow towards his father. "We'll be by the London townhouse sometime this evening and we can go over the entire meeting with Ramius, hopefully you'll be able to allow Granger to sleep in and we'll find something that gives us a start."

As the pair headed for the door, Kingsley cleared his throat. Mercy planted her feet and turned so that Archie was swung around so he was facing the Minister. Trying not to smile, Kingsley turned his attention to Mercy and smiled at her.

"Ms. Hendricks, I realize that I'm not, technically, your boss since it says quite clearly that you work for the Foreign Office but I'd like to make this an official request of you."

Seeing the apprehensive look on her face, Kingsley chuckled and simply said, "Try to ensure that young Carrenton here doesn't spend the rest of the day obsessing over this. If you could ensure that he's suitably distracted, then I think that the meeting this evening with the head of DMLE will be a much more productive one."

The shocked look on Mercy's face was replaced by embarrassment as Archie pulled her through the door as the laughter from the other attendees of the meeting was cut off by the closing of the door behind them as they left on their search for … breakfast.

* * *

><p><em>0845 bst 23 Monday 23 September, 2019 – Director's Office, Ministry of Magic, London<em>

As the pair shimmered into view, a distinctive '_ping_' sounded, causing Hermione to chuckle and shake her head.

"Told you blocking everything was going to cause a problem," she said as she ruffled Harry's hair. "Cara went and put an alert on my office apparition entrance, must be something up."

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Harry kissed his fiancée on the cheek before leading her over to her desk and leaning against it.

"It wasn't about the children, and we told them that anything else short of a Ministerial Emergency or Royal decree …"

"Would be ignored, yes yes. And this was very close," Cara said sharply as she bustled into the office with a handful of people in tow.

Feeling her eyebrows threatening to die of lack of oxygen at the sight of Archimedes Carrenton following her assistant into the office, Hermione flashed Harry a glare and immediately tried to step away from him.

Unfortunately, he kept his arm firmly around her waist, at least until he saw that Kingsley was at the tail end of the procession with included Horace, Aloysius, and one of the granddaughters of the Greengrass clan who was working for the Diplomatic Service as a liaison with the Ministry.

"Mister Minister," Hermione began, "I apologize …"

"Nonsense," Kingsley said as he waived off her apology and headed for the conference room adjoining her office. "Let's all get comfortable; the DMLE staff meeting has been postponed so we can sort this matter out with just the seven of us."

As he headed through the door, causing Hermione to give Harry another glare as she queued up to get a seat in her own conference room, Harry ended up standing beside the young woman whom he recognized as a member of the extended Greengrass family.

Nodding to her, he raised an eyebrow as they waited for the others to sort themselves out and find a seat around the conference table.

Smiling mysteriously, Mercy simply said, "I'm certain my aunt is going to have a field day with the two of you skiving off like that."

Chuckling, Harry tried to imagine the reaction of Daphne to the news that the first time the pair of them had taken a weekend out of touch with the Ministry, something major had broken as he gestured towards the empty seats left around the table.

"Ladies choice," he said as Mercy gracefully folded herself into the seat beside Archie, leaving him to choose the seat beside her, or the one across the way between Cara and the Minister. Seeing the look on Cara's face, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor and took the seat next to the newcomer.

As soon as Harry was seated, Cara sat forward and began, effectively cutting off Kingsley as he was preparing to open the meeting.

"Just a reminder, everything in this briefing is covered under the Official Secrets Oaths we've all taken," she said giving Archie a look that Harry took to mean that they'd had problems with that before.

"Archie was our source for materials that led to Operation Canary breaking the information leaks," she began, glancing down at the briefing materials before looking back up at Hermione with an apologetic smile. "His identity would still be classified and known only to myself and his handler, Ms Hendrecks there, except for the fact he was essentially ordered to bring a message to the acting Director and you, Madam Director, by Markus Ramius concerning a new development that takes things a step further."

Before Hermione or any of the others could say anything, Mercy slammed her hand against the tabletop and glared at the older witch.

"For Heaven's sake, if you keep waltzing around this, they're going to have done whatever it is they need to do and then there'll be Hell to pay."

Turning her attention to Hermione, and feeling Harry's eyes on her as he stared at her in disbelief, Mercy pushed a folio across the table to where Hermione was sitting.

"Ramius kidnapped this idiot and gave him a message to deliver to you and his father regarding a threat that some group of pureblood supremacists here in Britain are involved in. They're going to attempt to liberate a warlock who's been imprisoned for over eight centuries along with a Fey Lord …"

"No one's mad enough to try to release de Soulis," Hermione interjected. "He's been a prisoner of the Order since they took him down in 1207." Closing her eyes for a moment as she thought back through the information she had as head of the Order, she shook her head for a moment and then turned her attention to Harry.

"I'll have to verify this with the Order's chronicles, but his imprisonment was ordered by the first Master of the Order, Michael Scot. de Soulis and the fey known as 'Red Cap' were imprisoned using a ritual binding in lead by …."

Trailing off, Hermione blinked in surprise before switching her attention to Harry, "The binding ritual was sealed by the blood of one Charlus, the Lord Potter and Aoife 'Storm Queen', the daughter of the then Master of the Order, Michael Scot."

Pausing for a moment and then rolling her eyes, she added, "Who was the wedded wife of the current Lord Selwyn, rumored to be one of the last direct apprentices of Slytherin."

"Blood binding," was Harry's first question. Seeing Hermione's nod, Harry sighed and chuckled bitterly. "Well, thanks to Albus and Tom, there's a very short list of people who can unlock that particular binding."

"Harry," the Minister said after exchanging a look with Aloysius, "Ramius was fairly adamant that it was imperative that Archie deliver his message to Hermione and Aloysius, and I think we can see why."

"Ramius is convinced that if these idiots succeed, it will have a devastating effect on the various magical societies because the muggle world will retaliate in an overwhelming manner," Archie added as he looked over at Hermione with a sad smile.

"Your connection your Order is half the equation, there must be something in your Chronicles that gives us a way to steal a march on these idiots," he said, holding up a hand as he saw she was going to say something.

"But, with all due respect Director, I've been dealing with witches and wizards the length and breadth of Europe regarding every mad pureblood scheme and cult you can think of for the past few years and if there's one thing I've learned, every time I think 'No one's mad enough to do that' someone pops up and is mad enough to do that and more."

Shuddering for a moment, he closed his eyes and said, "Never underestimate exactly how far a true believer will go if they're pushed in a corner."

"The first problem," Mercy said, "is that the Selwyn family is up to its bits in the various pureblood and 'heritage' movements here in Britain. Chances are pretty good that somewhere in their family histories there's something written down by this Aoife Selwyn about where they tucked de Soulis away for safekeeping."

Seeing the look on Hermione's face, Mercy shook her head. "There's been bad blood between the Selwyns and the Potters for a very long time. The Greengrass family has had varying degrees of association with both houses for almost a thousand years and the one thing my ancestors were very adamant about in the house records is that while the Potters were very 'live and let live', any hint of dealings with the Potters would set the Selwyns off on a tear that made no sense whatsoever.

"'Cutting off ones nose to spite ones face' didn't come close to covering it according to some of the things I read. And since from everything I could find Aoife "Storm Queen' was the origin of the vendetta, so if she was one half of this binding and was forced to work with a Potter, it's almost certain that she ranted about it and it was recorded in their family records."

Looking at Mercy and Archie for a few seconds, Hermione looked over at Harry. Seeing him nod with a smirk, she placed her hands flat on the table and closed her eyes.

"Shades of Tom Riddle, but the reason that the Order chose to encase those two in molten lead and seal them away with blood magic is that de Soulis employed a ritual based on the Baldurite Heresy to regain his magic after he was squibbed for practicing forbidden magicks. Scot decided that the vulnerability imparted by the ritual wasn't attainable then and they would hide the pair away until such a time as the Order was able to destroy de Soulis and banish Red Cap from the lands and back to the realms of Faerie."

Sitting back in his chair, Aloysius thought for a moment, digesting the information his protégé had given him. As Mistress of the Order, she would have access not only to the location where de Soulis was entombed but what the vulnerability that would allow for de Soulis' destruction.

The so called 'Baldurite Heresy' wasn't a specific ritual, but a general class of rituals that saw a mortal making a pact with an extraplanar power, a devil, demon, fey lord, or elemental, for powers and protection. Named after the legends of Baldur, all such pacts had a vulnerability that was something that would destroy the link and the mortal, banishing the other participant of the pact back to their home.

Deciding that Ramius must have sussed out his secret, and that would have something to do with determining how to implement this vulnerability, he sighed.

"Hermione, would I be wrong if I were to conjecture that you are in possession of the knowledge of what de Soulis' vulnerability is?" Seeing her tentative nod, and then the sharp look she gave Archie and Mercy, he chuckled.

"As young Cara so gracefully reminded us, everything discussed in here is covered by the Official Secrets Oaths we have sworn, and so if I'm going to mention the fact that I've been an Unspeakable and a covert member of the Department of Mysteries since before everyone in this room was born, I think you can tell us what your Order has recorded as the way to strip de Soulis of his protections."

Looking around the room and seeing the gobsmacked looks on everyone's face, except for Mercy's he noted with interest, he sighed. "I've shown you mine, now let's see yours."

Trying not to gape at a man she'd worked with for over a decade who had successfully hidden the fact he was an Unspeakable from not only her, but the rest of the Ministry, Hermione decided that, one way or the other, the Order's writ in the matter of de Soulis was coming to a close.

"The Chronicles record Aoife's report that 'Merlin's shot from a bombard delivered from a distance of fifty seven furlongs' would break the bonds between de Soulis and Red Cap, but for the life of me I'm not seeing how that's useful. We now have artillery that can easily range the seven plus miles, but nothing I've read about gives me a clue to 'Merlin's shot'."

Sitting back in his chair, Aloysius narrowed his eyes as he stared at his protégé in disbelief. While he couldn't blame the Order of the Phoenix for keeping secrets close, and under Hermione's leadership they were by orders of magnitude more open and cooperative than they had been under Albus' leadership, he found himself in a familiar place.

Too often during his service to the government, he had found out after the fact that some office or agency had access to the information he had been desperately seeking, or in this case, information that they didn't know they needed until things had began to go pear shaped.

And while their world revolved around a Secret, it was no excuse for keeping things so close to the vest that, as young Cara had once put it, 'your cards were behind you'.

While he would need to speak with some people before giving out specifics, he could offer up a solution to their current dilemma.

"If you'll tell me where to aim them, I can have Force M ready to have 'Merlin's shot' on any target you can provide me," he said with a smile. "As long as they're within seven miles of a coast, that is."

Shaking her head, Hermione stared at her mentor for a couple of seconds before shrugging. "We'll have to move them. Currently de Soulis and Red Cap are imprisoned beneath an ancient stone ring called 'Nine Stane Rig' …"

Suddenly the door to the conference room burst open, the auror commander who was responsible for the current shift and monitoring the situation in Britain stopped in the doorway, his normally florid face was pale.

"Sorry, but we have an emergency situation. I've deployed an auror squad to investigate and we've notified the Department of Mysteries but a huge magical backlash was just detected on a ley line in the Borders. We've managed to localize it to an ancient site to the east of Whitrope Burn in the Borders Park called Nine Stane Rig."

* * *

><p><em>0840 bst Monday 23 September, 2019 - Nine-stane Rig, Scotland<em>

The brisk autumn air swirled around the standing stones as five figures suddenly appeared in the morning sunlight. The heather was slightly displaced as the cloaked individuals quickly moved towards the open area in the center of the ancient stones.

Looking up at the sun, Belladonna Parkinson squinted for a moment before turning her attention to the others.

"Quickly, we have less than ten minutes until the balancing point is reached, we need to be ready to interrupt the power of the ley lines and remove the cauldron and be gone from here."

Looking over to where Androclus Carrow was skirting around one of the fallen and weathered stones, gingerly carrying the staff she had entrusted to him earlier, she snarled, "Make certain you've got that stave placed exactly over where the line approaches the center. Once the balance is achieved, the entire thing is dependent upon you interrupting the flow of energy sealing the wards around it so that I can reverse the Earthfast enchantment my ancestor used to hold our prize."

Nodding to Aubray Lestrange, who was holding a battered and rusty number plate from a muggle motorcar, she asked, "You're certain that portkey will move the cauldron once we free it from the circle?"

Cackling like a demented madwoman, leading Belladonna to think not for the first time insanity must be either a prerequisite or end result of marrying into the Lestrange clan since poor Aubray was becoming more like her idol Bellatrix as time passed, Aubray nodded with a malevolent gleam in her eyes.

"Oi, aye. This will whisk the wee container all the way to your hidey hole. I crafted the portkey that stole that great muggle vehicle and dropped it in the middle of that filthy muggle music show two years ago, this is a wee thing compared to that monster."

Frowning at the memory of the botched attack on the Edinburgh Military Tattoo two summers ago, Belladonna had to admit that the portkey that the Lestrange witch had crafted had transported a sixty-five tonne Claverhouse tank from its parking spot in Wiltshire to a spot seventy feet over the esplanade of Edinburgh Castle.

Having discovered that the anti-portkey and apparition wards that the Ministry routinely placed around event venues only extended sixty feet into the air over the concert site, the plan to have the muggle weapon drop into the crowd below would have a been perfect chance to create havoc and destruction.

Perfect except for the fact that that damned blood-traitor daughter of old Xenophilus' had been attending the show that night along with a couple of other blood traitor witches and they'd been able to slow the descent of the massive muggle creation so that it landed gentle as a feather in the middle of the field.

Just proving how perverse the Fates were, the tank touched down just as the Black Watch stepped off with 'Scotland the Brave' and the musicians split their formation to go around the obstacle so that the muggles in the crowd thought it was part of the show and the Ministry was able to keep under wraps that someone had managed to almost commit mass murder using the British army's brand new tank.

The fact that the three witches were all prominent blood traitors slumming at a muggle event showed exactly how deep the rot in the British wizarding world went. Lovegood-Scarmander was the sole heiress of the Lovegood family, the half-blood wife of Neville Longbottom, one of the founding families of the Wizengamot, and the current Bones of Bones, head of another of the founding families all in the midst of a teeming muggle city at an event celebrating the barbarism of the muggle world.

Shaking herself, Belladonna looked around to see that the rest of her team was in place. The Pureblood movement was under stress and suspicion these days, especially since those idiots Lucius and Dolohov had been exposed when their plot to discredit and destroy Potter and his whore collapsed, and a mistake now would be costly.

The loss of the Potter's wife had been a blow to the cause, they had finally joined the Scott and Potter bloodlines after over nine centuries of waiting and the stupid chit had thrown it all away over that mudblood whore. Fortunately, she had managed to get it right and provided heirs to both families before she'd managed to get herself cast aside.

Glossing over the two older boys, though the rumors of the middle one changing his name showed that he might be useful, Belladonna allowed herself a moment or two to think about the youngest, the witchling, and how she would be useful to the Cause.

Using her instead of her mother to release the bindings on de Soulis and the fey lord would tie her to the movement. Not only would channeling that much power when they released the bindings that had been fed by a major ley line for the past nine centuries change the girl, but her magical signature would be all over the release and in the aftermath of the destruction that would be unleashed, the only place she would find shelter would be with the Cause, under the watchful eye of a suitable branch of the family.

Doing it here, onsite with the ley line present would have been better, but it had been impossible to separate the chit from her friends and family in time, so she would be brought to a secondary location when the time was right to unleash the fury of de Soulis and the Fey Lord upon the teeming muggle barbarians.

A handful of years being tutored by members carefully selected for both their discretion and their ability and she would be ready to do her duty as the leading light of a new generation.

Looking up at the sun, and seeing that it was only a few minutes until the balance was achieved, until the autumnal equinox, Belladonna looked over and glared at Carrow.

"Get into position, we'll only have one shot at this," she said. "You need to interrupt the line just as the balance arrives, you don't want to interrupt that level of power without worrying about the effects."

Turning her attention to Theodora Nott and Hiram Vane, she indicated spots at right angles from where Carrow was standing.

"As soon as Androclus begins to channel the power of the line, the two of you raise a shield around the working to keep any stray energies out and the energy that he's channeling in while I raise the cauldron."

Turning her attention back to Aubray, she could see the look of anticipation on her face. "Not until the cauldron is clear of the earth, remember. If it's in contact with the ground, those hacks at the Ministry will be able to track it."

"I remembered with that great iron beastie, didn't I," she cackled. "Took them hours to track down where the beastie was when we nicked it."

Seeing the sun hit its required mark, Belladonna said, "It's time."

As soon as she spoke, Androclus straddled the ley line, feet shoulder's width apart and ground the end of the staff into the ground right over where line passed between his feet.

As soon as she saw the staff strike the ground, Belladonna dropped her wand between her own feet and nodded to the other two participants. When the two silver domes of arcane energy met and blended, she began to reach out with her own magic for the tendrils of energy that locked the massive cauldron beneath the earth.

Following the radiating tendrils of energy, much like the roots of a tree that spread out from the massive structure beneath the earth she quickly severed the connections, disconnecting the cauldron from the earth that surrounded it.

Feeling the echoes of the ancient rituals that had been performed among the standing stones, Belladonna began reversing the Earthfast binding that her long ago ancestor had used to hide the cauldron beneath the ground. Focusing her attention on the ground between her and the others, she began to feel the strain as she began to force the massive container free of its prison.

The turf began to buckle as the massive iron cauldron began to rise. As the turf slid free, she could see the greasy sheen of the lead that sealed the cauldron, with the pair of sigils glowing with the amount of energy being held by them. Gleaming with the same eldritch energies that played across its surface as it had that fateful evening when de Soulis was condemned to his living entombment, Belladonna smiled as the cauldron raised itself from the earth that had held it for over nine centuries.

When the cauldron was halfway out of the earth that had held it fast for centuries, Belladonna began speaking without taking her eyes from the cauldron.

"Nott and Vane, as soon as I say 'go', you drop the shield spells and then activate the portkeys. Drop them at your destinations and then begin four random apparitions before going to your individual safe houses. The portkeys back to the manor are timed; you'll be taken there on a staggered schedule so as to not draw attention to the place."

The cauldron was now three quarters of the way free, and she continued.

"Aubray, as soon as the shields are down, wait for their portkeys to activate and then place the portkey to take the cauldron to where it's supposed to be and activate it. Then activate your portkey and start randomly apparating around to get to your safe house. The final portkey will bring you to the manor well after the others."

As the stubby legs of the cauldron cleared the earth, Belladonna closed her eyes and said, "Androclus, once the cauldron departs, pull the staff from the earth and then we'll portkey to a safe place to begin apparating back to the manor."

The cauldron was now a foot above the ground, and Belladonna simply said "Go".

Nott and Vane both dropped their shields, almost in unison. As the shimmering dome disappeared, they reached down and touched the portkeys that they had attacked to their wrists, disappearing in a swirl of colors.

Aubray Lestrange scampered across the rough ground and placed the battered number plate against the cauldron, the sticking charm affixed it in places as she touched it with her wand and sent the cauldron on its way. As soon as it disappeared, she cackled with glee and activated her own portkey and disappeared.

Retrieving her wand with a silent summoning, Belladonna watched as Androclus pulled the staff from the ground. Unfortunately, since he was on the blocking side of the ley line, the backlash of arcane energy arced up and overloaded his core, killing him instantly.

Summoning the staff, Belladonna shook her head and sighed. Walking over to the dead wizard, she knelt down and gently closed his eyes.

"Alas, old friend. I'm sorry this was necessary. The energies from the line would have been detectable on you for the next lunar month, and with the Ministry already suspicious, I couldn't risk you going somewhere and setting off a detector."

Reaching down, she removed the old Ravenclaw pin from their school days from his belt pouch and placed it on his chest.

"Actually, this is for the best, the portkey would have taken you to a point two hundred feet over a spot two hundred miles north of Shetland Island. While I imagine that the fall to the water would have done you in, it would have pained me to think of you slowly drowning in the frigid waters there, so this was relatively painless and quick."

Deciding not to leave anything to chance, she quickly transformed his clothes to stone to ensure that he would sink rapidly, since his body floating ashore in either the Faeroes or on Shetland would cause questions she didn't want answered.

Tapping the portkey with her wand, she watched as her old friend disappeared.

Standing up, she cast two spells that would dispel any magical signatures in a radius of thirty feet and hasten the degradation of the portkey traces that had already occurred. Since hers was a very low powered one that would take her first to the castle less than a mile away, she wasn't worried about that since her portkey's destination was a room on the upper level of the ruined castle.

Since the entire upper level was under the Fidelius, everyone believed that there wasn't an upper level, so the track of the portkey would disappear into the ruins of the castle. Taking some small delight in the fact that if she were noticed, it would only add to the rumors that the site was haunted, she then touched the portkey to begin her circuitous journey back to the old Dumbledore Manor.

Forty seconds later, an auror team arrived a mere twenty yards away and began to search for individuals and clues. Once the forensic boffins arrived twenty minutes later, there was nothing to find but some indeterminate traces of portkey activations and a scorched spot on the ground over the ley line, with two footprints outlined where the earth had crystallized as the massive amount of energy released when the diversion of the ley line ended was channeled through what they presumed was a human body.

* * *

><p><em>Sunset, 25 September 2019 Brattveig Harbor, Norway<em>

The fishing vessel The Neptune limping into Brattveig harbor caused quite a stir. The hasty repairs to the thirty five foot long wooden vessel were evident, the damage to the prow of the once tidy little fishing boat was evident from anywhere in the harbor.

The crew and captain's incredible story of a stone statue crashing through the prow of the vessel, punching a hole though the deck and then through the hull below would have been unbelievable except for the fact that a foot from the statue had broken off as it punched its way through the ship's deck.

The real stir came when the local harbormaster, examining the piece of the statue so he could write up his report noticed a curious and sinister thing.

While the shoe and stocking were made of stone, the harbor master shocked to see that there was a human foot inside the shoe, slowly decomposing.

He quickly placed a call to his sister who worked at a hospital in Oslo that only a select few could find.

Sunrise found the good ship Neptune as good as new and no one in Brattveig except the harbormaster remembering anything extraordinary about their voyage which was cut short by some bad kippers which required the crew to return to land.

The ship's logs and navigational charts would be in London on Director Granger's desk by noon.

* * *

><p><em>an 2 - While I have no knowledge that the British military is planning on replacing it's current main battle tank, the Challenger 2, since the British Army has named quite a few of their tanks starting with the letter 'C', I took the liberty of naming the hypothetical replacement for the Challenger as Claverhouse. _

_This chapter was first posted on 28 January, 2014._


	26. Hazardous Trips Down Memory Lane

**The Phoenix Syndrome – A Tale of Rebirth, Love, and Hate**

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><p><em><strong>an –** The Healer General of the British Ministry of Magic has determined that the entirety of the Harry Potter universe derives from a single vector, namely the imagination of one JK Rowling, hereafter known as 'Author Zero'. Her rights to this universe is undisputed and has been shared with various and sundry corporate partners, including but not limited to the companies involved in the legal production and distribution of the various Harry Potter books and movies. Many thanks are given to Ms Rowling for her kind indulgences and no infringement of any kind is intended._

_Mood rings were the invention of Josh Reynolds and Maris Ambats  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Six – Hazardous Trips Down Memory Lane<strong>

_11 am bst Tuesday 1 October, 2019 – Treatment Room C – Caer Sidi – off the coast of Wales_

Shuffling through the files in her lap, Hilfa Thorfinsdatter felt like she was watching her old roommate's last chips disappear the night before they flew home from Monte Carlo last spring. The life of one Ginevra Molly Weasley was a bad hand of epic proportions.

Even without the horror of having been possessed by the soul fragments of not one but two different psychotic mass murderers, the girl's entire life had been manipulated and ordered by two individuals. Her mother and Albus Dumbledore had orchestrated this girl's life down to the smallest detail, it was no wonder she rebelled against the constraints they had imposed upon her.

Musing upon the vagaries of life, how a random assignment of bunks back during the Grendelwald War had led to a refugee healer who had escaped minutes ahead of Nazis and Grendelwald's psychotic Storm Mages and a wet behind the ears mediwitch from Scotland being assigned together supporting Commonwealth magical forces in the Middle East and North Africa ended up with her in a place so shrouded in secrecy that she'd had to swear oaths that would squib her great grand-daughter who was about to finish her residency at Saint Olaf's if she violated them to evaluate a patient in a case that might not ever exist, officially.

Hilfa wondered, and not for the first time, exactly how strange the life of Poppy Pomfrey really was if this was the type of referral she got. Chuckling, she rolled her eyes at how wrong the stereotype of a school mediwitch really was.

Checking once more to see that everything breakable was secured and all loose objects in the room were charmed so they couldn't be thrown or banished, Hilfa tapped the tip of her wand on the silver rune that was in front of her worked into the gleaming tabletop to notify her assistant and the aurors accompanying her next patient that it was time.

As soon as the door opened, the charms protecting the privacy of the room were released and the strident tones of her next patient were clearly audible.

"How many bloody times do I have to repeat myself? I'm Ginevra Potter, the Lady Potter and the wife of your boss. I demand that you inform my husband of the shameful way I'm being treated this instant."

Getting up from her seat, Hilfa strode across the cozy treatment room towards the door. Catching the eye of the auror who had opened the door, she pulled a potions vial from her pocket and nodded towards her patient, who was ranting at her assistant.

When the young witch held up two fingers, Hilfa mentally rolled her eyes and stepped through the door.

"What seems to be the trouble," she asked in a kindly tone as if she didn't have any idea about the circumstances.

As her patient whirled around to face her, Hilfa had to steel herself to not flinch at the intensity of the malevolence in the glare that the younger witch directed at her. Even after two calming potions, Ginevra Weasley was able to project enough emotion that she was almost radiating an aura around her.

Smiling warmly in spite of the anger and disdain she could see, Hilfa waited for her first face to face interaction with her patient.

"Are you in charge," Ginevra spat out. Without waiting for an answer, she launched herself into a repeat of her earlier tirade.

"I don't think it's too much to ask for you people to respect the fact that I'm the wife of Harry Potter and treat me accordingly," Ginny snarled. "When my husband hears how you've been treating me …"

"I'm sorry, Ginevra, but we treat all of our clients the same," Hilfa said smoothly as she gestured towards the waiting treatment room. "I really wouldn't be fair to treat someone differently; everyone who comes in here receives the same level of interest and care, regardless of whom she is."

Pausing for a moment, she added, "Or who her family is. Surely you wouldn't want any of your friends who were less fortunate than you to receive less care would you?"

While the ginger witch gave her a wary look, Hilfa was gratified to see that she reluctantly nodded in agreement with the concept.

She'd been half afraid that she wouldn't be able to identify with anyone else, but apparently that wasn't part of the problem. Escorting the younger witch into the treatment room, Hilfa watched her as she took in her surroundings.

Giving the room a once over and a sniff of disdain, Ginevra moved gracefully through the door and towards the pair of comfortable chairs arranged around the low table in front of the fireplace.

A fire was gently crackling, partially to add a homey feel to the room and partially to allow quicker access since the only place that this particular floo was connected to was the floo in the ready room for the Active Response Team on duty.

A privacy shield allowed for patient confidentiality, but the runic array that powered the shield was set to drop If Hilfa said a specific safe word or if any magic was detected that didn't have Hilfa's magical signature associated with it.

Snorting at someone's sense of humor in picking a word that had no direct translation in Norwegian, Hilfa wondered exactly who decided on 'kumquat' as a safe word and what was running through that person's mind when they made that choice.

Seating herself across from her patient, Hilfa placed the folder that contained the dossiers and evaluations of her patient on the end table beside her chair and picked up an old fashioned mundane pad of ruled paper.

Something she had picked up while studying in North America, Hilfa still found that using a normal pencil to take notes on an old fashioned yellow legal pad allowed her to concentrate on her patients while giving the ones not familiar with anything outside the magical world something to focus on.

As soon as Ginevra saw it, she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Merlin on a crutch, not another one," she said with almost a fond look in her eyes as she stared at the pencil and pad on Hilfa's lap.

"Another one?"

"My father, totally mad for muggle things. That bitch gave him one of those pads and that was the last time he used parchment to take notes around the house," she said in a conversational tone as she settled back into the comfortable chair.

Crossing her legs at the knee and settling the calf length skirt around her, Ginevra primly folded her hands in her lap and waited. Seeing that her patient was going to try to direct things, Hilfa simply touched a small rune on the arm of her chair to alert the staff that the interview was beginning.

A brief shimmer heralded the arrival of a tea service on the low table between them. Setting the tablet on the side table, and having the privacy shields shimmer into effect keeping her patient from seeing anything on it, Hilfa leaned forward and gestured towards the serving tray.

"Care for some tea," she asked with a smile. Seeing the suspicious eye her patient was giving the tea and biscuits, Hilfa just shrugged and picked up one of the mugs at random.

Pouring a goodly measure of the tea from the pot into the mug, she sat back and took a sip of the tea. Wishing that the English were civilized enough to provide coffee, she deftly placed the mug on spot on the arm of her chair that would keep it in place and warm and picked up her tablet, settling herself back in the chair to begin her session.

Looking over at the 'abstract' painting on the wall, Hilfa could see the patterns that the picture was picking up from the runes in the chair that her patient was sitting in.

Akin to the muggle 'mood rings' that were all the fashion back in the seventies, a couple of runic researchers at MIT&T, the Maryland Institute of Thaumaturgy and Technomancy, had taken a silly mundane craze and turned it into a diagnostic tool that had been part of the mind healer's standard practice since the early eighties.

Everywhere except for Britain, of course. While things had improved greatly since the nineties, there were still certain things that had never quite caught on here. Seeing that her patient's responses were settling in, she noted that the recording function was on so that it would link the changes in emotional and physical responses to a transcript of the interview.

"Who was it that introduced your father to using a legal pad," Hilfa asked in a cheery voice.

From her background information on the patient and her family, there really could only be one answer, but she decided that the conflict between talking about her father and having to think about Ms Granger should jumpstart the discussion of the issues that brought her to this point.

"My brother's worthless wife," Ginevra said in a frosty tone, glaring at Hilfa for daring to make her think about her nemesis. "Nothing was ever good enough for her; she had to corrupt everything she touched."

Pausing for a moment, she added, "Including my husband."

"Tell me about Harry Potter," Hilfa asked as she watched Ginevra carefully. Seeing the stress reactions, her pupils dilating and her muscles involuntarily tensing as her patient reacted to the verbal assault on her carefully crafted delusions was telling, even more so than her hand's movement that would have dropped her wand from the holster she had worn before her incarceration had begun.

"My husband," Ginevra began in a controlled voice, only to stop when Hilfa held up her hand.

"No, Harry Potter the boy. The young boy you first met the day he first left for Hogwarts."

Her eyes widening, Ginevra sat back in her chair and simply stared for a moment before she smiled. Unlike the intense emotions she had shown up until now, this one was shy and tentative.

"My mother had taken me along to London to get my brothers on the train," Ginevra began as she closed her eyes in an attempt to relive that long ago day.

"For some reason, Mum was quizzing me about the Platform number, which I thought was a bit odd."

"How so," Hilfa asked, with a gentle tone.

"First, we had come to the outside entrance," Ginny said as she continued to keep her eyes closed. "It was such a hassle, instead of just jumping into the floo; we had to make our way through London to get there.

"That was the first year they'd ever come that way, Bill always thought it was Daddy's fascination with doing it the muggle way started the year Ron started Hogwarts."

Pausing for a moment, she added, "Which is decidedly odd since Daddy rarely took them to King's Cross unless it was on a weekend."

"Why would your mother quiz you about the platform number," Hilfa asked as she looked down at her notes. "Platform 9 and ¾s should be easy enough to remember I would think."

"Mum was always doing stuff like that, asking me about things I would need to know later in life," Ginevra said with a sad smile.

"When the boys were all at school, she would drill me on the things that I should do to attract Harry's attention, things about his family that I shouldn't mention, things like that."

Pausing, Ginevra leaned forward and picked a mug and half filled it with tea. Pouring in a generous portion of milk, she sat back and took a sip before closing her eyes again.

"It was a good thing she did; Harry was totally lost trying to find his way onto the platform. That way he knew we weren't clueless muggles like his relatives and he asked about the platform."

"And that's when you fell in love with him," Hilfa asked as she watched her patient carefully.

Smiling wistfully, Ginevra kept her eyes closed as she waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, I'd been in love with Harry for years by that point. Mum had Daddy get me all of those 'Boy-Who-Lived' books and she read them to me each night before I went to sleep.

"She'd known that I was going to be Lady Potter, even back then and she kept pointing out things in the books that I needed to remember for when I was Harry's wife."

"Did you tell him you loved him as soon as you saw him that day," Hilfa asked casually. Her long talk with Mr. Potter about his early interactions with the Weasley family had given her the answer to her question, but she was curious to see what Ginevra remembered of their first actual meeting.

A puzzled look crossed the red-haired witch's face before she frowned and faintly shook her head, all without opening her eyes.

"No, when he first came up and asked Mum about the platform, he looked nothing like himself," she said in a distant voice. "I'm not certain why he was disguising himself, but he must have decided that he needed to start his plan to stop Voldemort from the moment he arrived at King's Cross."

The more she talked about Harry, the breathier her voice became.

"I really never gave him a second glance, his disguise was so perfect," Ginevra said with a wry smile.

"He looked so pathetic, so … lost; he just couldn't have been Harry Potter. That was the only way he got by me, and if he could fool me he definitely fooled all of the ones looking to do him harm so that's why I forgave him for not acknowledging me when Mum explained it all to me."

"You forgave him," Hilfa asked, looking at the younger witch in disbelief.

"Of course, it would have been a horrible slight for him to not acknowledge me as the future Lady Potter if he hadn't been working so hard to fool everyone," she replied matter of factly.

"I could hardly hold that against him for very long, now could I?"

Before Hilfa could ask, Ginny launched into a completely fictionalized account of the following summer, with Harry breaking out of his relatives' house and making his way to Ottery St. Catchpole to be there so he could celebrate her eleventh birthday with her.

To hear her patient tell it, Harry had risked death and dismemberment just so he could be with her for her special day. Since she had gone over her notes regarding that summer, especially since it touched upon Ginevra's future problems, she was not really surprised that she had blown her first real contact with Harry totally out of context.

While it was difficult to decide whether or not some of the interactions were complete fabrications and which were simply innocent encounters between the two at the Weasley house that the young girl had remembered and embellished while Harry had either forgotten or not even noticed, things hit a rough patch when Hilfa asked about the trip to Diagon Alley to get school supplies.

"So, you first met 'Tom' in Diagon Alley," Hilfa questioned, having gotten the general story from Harry only after swearing some very serious oaths, far beyond the confidentiality oaths that were inherent in her working as a healer.

And after hearing some of the details that still weren't public regarding how the English Dark Lord had managed to survive , she was certain that the cautious attitude of her hosts were warranted.

Becoming a bit withdrawn, Ginevra hesitantly nodded her agreement to the question without answering verbally.

"How?"

"He chose me," she replied in a very faint voice which sounded younger and much more uncertain than she had previously.

"He recognized my connection to Harry and he chose me so that he could help me prepare to be the consort of a wizard destined for greatness like Harry," Ginevra said quietly.

Seeing that the younger witch was physically drawing into herself, Hilfa resisted the urge to look over at the monitor and concentrated on her to try to garner any physical clues to what she was going through.

"Destined for greatness?"

"He defeated a Dark Lord when he was just a toddler," Ginevra snapped, color coming back into her face. "Everyone knew that he would eventually take his place as the greatest wizard since Merlin," she spat before adding, "that was until she got her claws into him," in a much softer but much more disdainful tone.

"She?"

"Her," Ginny hissed. "That conniving, smiling … Muggleborn." Even though she hadn't used the term, Hilfa could hear 'mudblood' as her patient described Ms Granger.

"I take it we're discussing Ms Granger," Hilfa said neutrally.

"Of course we're discussing that … swot," Ginny hissed. Again, Hilfa felt that she wasn't hearing her patient's first word choice.

"What did Tom think of Ms Granger?"

"He ignored the little strumpet," Ginny sniffed with disdain. "Every time she tried to talk to him he simply waited until Harry was in control."

The shudder that passed through Ginny when she said that told Hilfa more about her patient's issues than her disparagement of her rival. Making a note of that, she decided to push that concept.

Having viewed extensive memories of the 'sessions' between Ginny and the person that she had polyjuiced into the form of her husband, Hilfa wondered if she could get Ginny to accept what seemed glaringly obvious to any observer.

"What was your relationship with Tom?"

Blinking in surprise, the colour drained out of Ginny's face as she sat back in her chair and stared.

"With … Tom," she asked in a whisper.

"Yes, your relationship with Tom," Hilfa said. "Other than Harry, what sort of things did the two of you talk about?"

A brief shudder passed through the younger witch, and if Hilfa hadn't been carefully observing her she would have missed it, as she took a deep breath.

Releasing it slowly, Ginny shook her head a bit before beginning.

"Tom tried to help me become a suitable companion for a wizard of Harry's power and potential," she said slowly. Rather than the inflections of natural speech, Hilfa could hear the flat cadences that indicated that Ginny was reciting something from rote.

"A wizard like Harry should have a suitable companion, someone who can be what he needs and Tom tried to show me how to be that witch."

A change came over her features as her voice became harsher. Hilfa could see a change in how Ginny was holding herself as she sat in the chair across from her.

"But no, he never could take his rightful place, a place his power and abilities would carve out for him. She wouldn't let him become the wizard he could be. I tried to get him to …"

"You tried to what, Ginevra," Hilfa asked quietly.

"I tried to get him to take the place in the world his abilities and powers could carve for him. If he would have just started with me he could have ruled Britain within years of defeating Voldemort. Harry Potter, the 'Wizard Who Won' sitting on an iron throne and controlling everything he could see with me at his feet …"

Breathing heavily, her eyes now closed, Hilfa watched in fascination at the transformation that came over her patient. Her face was flushed as she was lost in whatever fantasy she had of a triumphant Harry Potter ruling over Britain, and apparently her, with complete control.

"He would never take what I offered, not in the way he should have," she said with a note of despair. "Tom showed me his memories of how he had come to rule the Slytherin Commons, how he bent the witches of his house and the others to his will while he established his control."

Eyes now open, and blazing with emotion but not seeing the scene before her, Hilfa watched as her patient was completely caught up in the memories of her time in thrall to the diary that had belonged to Tom Marvello Riddle before he had invested it with a sliver of his soul.

"Harry couldn't rule Britain and the rest of the world because he couldn't even rule me," she snarled. "That pathetic bitch weakened him, wrapped him around her will, made him unfit …"

Having come half out of her seat, and causing Hilfa to move her hand closer to the panic rune, Ginny suddenly collapsed back into her chair and slumped a bit, almost as if she had been a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Or a victim of possession who was cut off from the entity possessing her.

As a small shudder passed through her patient's body, Hilfa was surprised to see Ginevra's eyes pop open. Sitting back up, Ginny blinked a couple of times before looking at Hilfa with a questioning look in her eyes.

"You were asking about the summer before I started Hogwarts, correct?"

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><p><em>19 October, 2019 - The former Dumbledore Manor near Mould on Wold<em>

Looking around the opulently appointed sitting room, Daturia Selwyn smiled as she took in the scene around her.

Sitting in small groups, the members of the various families that she trusted implicitly were quietly discussing the events of the last six weeks. All of the disparate pieces were coming together; everything would be ready when they unleashed de Soulis and Redcap upon an unsuspecting public.

And that was just the opening strike. Pushing Britain back on its heels with the onslaught of terror and bloodshed they would unleash, Daturia felt that within a matter of days could see the capitulation of the Ministry and the seizing of control of all of Britain under the aegis of a reconstituted Ministry.

A Ministry dedicated towards tearing down the Statutes that were holding the magical cultures in bondage. Holding them from taking their rightful places in leading the world forward into a future dominated by the magicals of the world.

A steady thumping sound drew Daturia's attention to the hallway leading towards the back of the manor. A grizzled figure in an archaic grey uniform entered the room, fixing the occupants with a dismissive glare.

A cross between the late and unlamented blood traitor Alastor Moody and the late Hogwarts professor Silvanus Kettleburn, Wolfgang Hanussen was one of the few surviving veterans of the Grindelwald War from the losing side.

Known as 'Grindelwald's Beastmaster', the young Hanussen faded into the shadows in the days following Grindelwald's downfall and the end of the Second World War, moving from patron to patron in Central and Eastern Europe until he had come to the attention of the pureblood supremacist movement in Britain.

Making his way across the room, the uniformed wizard looked every bit of his almost century of age. Walking with a marked limp, the empty uniform sleeve that was pinned up gave witness to the danger of his calling and the hardness of his life over the past eight decades since the end of the war.

"Gnädige Frau," Wolfgang Hanussen said with a slight inclination of his head towards the seated witch. His posture, even after three quarters of a century, was that of a soldier on the parade field. In spite of the ravages of time and his profession, he gave the impression of a predator waiting to strike.

"The talismans were exactly where I had placed them in a crypt hidden in the Wildtalwald. One container was destroyed by a cave-in, but I still have twelve for die jäger, they should be sufficient to bring the cattle to their knees."

Nodding, Daturia rose from her chair and motioned for Hanussen to lead the way. Looking around the room, she shook her head briefly when several of the others made to stand, but she motioned for her sister Belladonna to join them as she accompanied the grey uniformed wizard from the room.

"Ironic, no, that the Dumbledore legacy will play such a major part of our victory," Belladonna said quietly as they made their way through the hallways towards the back stairwell.

Nodding amicably to the various members that they encountered, the trio quickly reached what had originally been the ground floor entrance to one of the two servants' stairwells in the manor.

As they descended the stairs, the quickly passed the sealed doors the led to the three levels of cellars below the old manor house. As soon as they passed through the archway that marked the boundary of the areas permitted to the general staff, the stairwell shifted into a ramp that lead downwards at a gentle slope.

"Gnädige Frau," Wolfgang said as the light began to brighten as they neared the final door before they entered the observation deck, "I must renew my insistence that you consider my recommendation that you move the cauldron containing der Meisterzauber und der Alp out of the cavern containing die jäger. They've been … unpredictable since you retrieved it."

"Herr Hanussen," Belladonna said smoothly, "we have full faith in your abilities to care for your charges. I know it's an inconvenience …"

"Frau Parkinson," Wolfgang replied stiffly, "even with the talismans there were problems during the war achieving consistent results."

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to Daturia. "And those were Schwarzwälder, unlike these pale inselwyrm whom you have asked me to train."

As they passed through the final door, the lights in the observation deck dimmed as they looked out over the large cavern the opened through three large openings to the cliff that had been hidden by magic by the Dumbledore family centuries ago.

Looking down they could see the large cauldron sitting in the middle of the open area. But surrounding it were the pens holding the eighteen wyverns that were the remnants of the once numerous flocks that were the staple of the economic power of the Dumbledore family over a century past.

Even from where they were, all three could see the agitation of the eighteen winged predators. All twelve of the males were screaming their defiance at the cauldron while the females were hissing their discomfort as they crouched over their clutches of eggs.

Imagining what would happen if the controls keeping the massive beasts in their pens were to fail, Daturia shook her head.

"Very well, Herr Hanussen, I will have the cauldron moved up to the wine cellar this evening. We will perform the ceremony there to release de Soulis and Red Cap there and your flock can join them as they visit our vengeance upon the cattle."

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><p><em>1400 gmt 24 October, 2019 – Chief Auror's Office, DMLE, Ministry of Magic, London<em>

Just as Harry was looking at the schedules that his team leaders were submitting regarding plans that the Department was formulating to attempt to track down the pureblood bigots who had gone to ground after the incident along the Borders last month, the floo in his office roared to life.

The shade of green indicated that the floocall was coming from outside the Ministry building, and since the list of people who could directly floo him was short, Harry wasn't too surprised when he looked up and saw his cousin's wife, Chastity Dursley, on the other end of the call.

What did surprise him was the look of panic on the veteran healer's face.

"Harry, we need you here, as soon as possible." Pausing for a moment, she added, "It's not good."

Panic gripped his heart, and his mind immediately flashed through the list of active auror operations that were going on, wondering which of his aurors had been injured.

Rising, he looked up at the door into his office where Horace Smithers was standing and nodded towards him. Turning his attention back to Chastity, he simply asked, "Which team?"

Shaking her head, Chastity smiled nervously. "It's not an auror issue, it's … personal."

"One of the children," Harry asked, now furiously trying to figure out how St. Mungo's found out about something before Hogwarts would have notified him. Minerva wasn't Dumbledore; she took great pains to keep parents in the loop.

"It's Hermione," Chastity said, emphasizing her name to clue Harry in that it was Hermione personally and not Director Granger who was the subject of the conversation.

"She came in because she hasn't been feeling well and she's taking a couple of aspects of what we found out."

"Chastity?" Looking at the usually unflappable witch who was the consummate professional, he could see that she was both amused and embarrassed.

Turning his attention to Horace, he was about to brief him when he stopped as he could see that the usually reserved auror commander was grinning and waving him towards the floo.

"Cara said that she'd been a bit under the weather this past week or so, you'd better go and face the music boss." Shaking his head, Horace just held up his hand and smirked. "I'll let Staci know that you'll be out the rest of the day and have her direct all calls to the Duty Desk."

Thanking the day that he'd hired Staci Churchill, who Minerva had said had been 'the most consummate Slytherin to ever slither her way into Hufflepuff', Harry just gave Horace a look as he moved towards the floo.

"Tell Staci that I shouldn't be too long, but let the Duty Officer know that they've got things until they hear from me."

Stepping over to the floo, Harry reached up as Chastity withdrew her head from the flames and grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the container on the mantel.

As the flames flared, he clearly announced, "Healer Dursley's office" as he stepped into the flames.

Twirling and twisting as he passed the various grates in the Ministry and then between the Ministry building and St. Mungo's, his mind flashed back to his first floo trip when he ended up at Knockturn Alley instead of Diagon Alley when he was twelve, Harry made an almost graceful exit from the floo in Chastity's office.

"What's wrong with her," Harry asked as he was moving towards the door to the outer office. "She's not been feeling well, but she said it was just her stomach being temperamental with all of the stress this past two months."

As they exited through the outer office and into the corridor, Harry started to get worried when Chastity didn't immediately start talking. Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, he simply asked, "How bad is it?"

"She's fit to be tied, and you've got some explaining to do," Chastity said as they navigated the corridor to the lifts.

"Me?"

Rolling her eyes, Chastity decided that while it seemed impossible Harry was this slow, that had to be the answer since there was no reason she could see that he would be faking not understanding what was going on.

Especially since he'd gone through this three times with that witch.

As they stepped into the lifts, Chastity gave a glare to the three mediwitch trainees that were already in the carriage. Since the only thing faster than a patronus for sending information was the gossip mill at St. Mungo's , there was no doubt in Chastity's mind that someone would have 'mentioned' that the DMLE Director had been given a consult to Healer Shacklebolt's and the word would have spread around the hospital.

And if Hermione's temper were running true to form, then anyone within earshot of Padma's office would have a good idea of what was going on, so the only decent thing to do was get Harry there as quick as possible so he'd hear the news from the source.

That, and Chastity wouldn't miss seeing the look on his face when he finally realized what was happening for all the vaults in Gringotts.

As she pushed the button for the fourth floor, she could see that Harry was still in the dark since her office was on the fifth floor.

"I had to write her a consult," Chastity began cautiously. Before Harry could go into panic mode, she attempted to change the subject and start him thinking about something that would need discussing once the initial shock was over.

"Are you guys still planning for sometime between Yule and Hogmanay?"

Blinking in surprise at the abrupt skid the conversation took, Harry stared suspiciously at Chastity who was pulling a decidedly innocent face as the lift took off on its rounds.

"That's pretty much the plan," Harry replied cautiously. "Any earlier and we'd have problems having the children involved in the ceremony what with them all being in Hogwarts."

Pausing for a moment, he added, "Except for Teddy and Victoire, of course."

As the lift slowed for a stop on three, the trainees who had already been in the car moved towards the doors. The tallest of the three, Chastity recognized her as Lizbeth Mackenzie-Kirkness, the daughter of a coworker who was one of Poppy's protégés, looked as if she was about to say something to Harry.

Waving her off with a subtle shake of her head, Chastity smirked at the surprised look on the younger witch's face as the doors to the lift opened and all three hurriedly exited the lift.

As the doors rattled closed, Harry rolled his eyes and simply said, "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what all of that was about, Chas?"

"I really don't have the foggiest what you're referring to," Chastity said as the lift slowed to a stop on four. As the doors opened, two things were readily apparent from where they were standing as they exited the car.

The first was that the mediwitch's station opposite the lifts was totally deserted, not a mediwitch or healer in sight.

The second was that there was a crowd of gawkers in the passageway down towards the right, blocking the corridor and all of them were craning their necks to look around the corner towards whatever the spectacle was that had captured the attention of everyone on the floor.

"For the love of …" Chastity hissed in exasperation as she stared in disbelief at the gaggle of lookie-loos in the corridor.

Taking her wand, Chastity fired a mild stinging hex at the posterior of the mediwitch at the rear of the pack, whom she recognized as being one Constance Stamford who had been a couple of years behind her in Hufflepuff.

When the irate ginger witch turned to see who had so rudely interrupted her, she paled when she recognized a senior healer scowling at her and the Chief Auror with a totally bewildered look on his face.

Hurriedly turning, she began furiously whispering, and suddenly the crowd in the corridor disappeared faster the pastries at a Monday morning staff meeting.

Except for one familiar blonde who was avidly watching the show playing out around corner in the one of the office suites while munching on what appeared to be popcorn in a white and red striped paper cone, she was peering intently at whatever had captured everyone's attention.

Clearing her throat noisily, Chastity tried without success to tear Luna's attention from whatever it was she was watching, and considering whose office was just around that corner there was very little doubt in Chastity's mind exactly what and whom Luna was watching.

Holding up her hand, Luna shook her head without taking her attention away from the spectacle she was watching. "Just a tic, she's getting to the good parts."

"Deputy Headmistress, this really isn't apropos,"

"Oh poo." Shaking her head, Luna looked over her shoulder at Chastity. Seeing Harry, however, her eyes lit up with an almost unholy glee.

"It's showtime," Motioning Harry forward, Luna snickered at the confused look on Harry's face. Turning her attention back to Chastity, she smiled and said, "I wondered if you'd be considerate enough not to clue him in and you were."

As Harry moved forward, glaring at Luna as she started snickering, his surroundings started to look vaguely familiar. Remembering coming here, just after being named as Chief Auror that December with Ginevra for an appointment with …

"Healer Shacklebolt's office is right where you remember it Harry," Chastity said as she put her hand on Harry's back to keep him moving forward. As soon as they stepped in front of the door into Padma's office, they could hear Hermione ranting.

"I can't believe he would do that. When I get my hands on Harry Bloody Potter …"

Harry froze in the middle of the doorway as Hermione looked up from where she was pacing back and forth. Padma was perched on the edge of her desk where she had been listening to her patient and friend with a steaming mug of something that she was vainly trying to hand to the brunette whirlwind who was nervously pacing in her office.

As soon as Hermione cut off, Padma looked toward the door and spotting Harry sighed noisily as Hermione erupted.

"Harry, how could you do that? I can't believe you would do such a tactless thing," Hermione snarled as she turned towards Harry. Taking a couple of steps towards him, she planted her hands on her hips and glared.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Staring at her in disbelief, Harry's thoughts were racing around in very small circles as he tried to figure out exactly what was going on. The fact that Chastity gave Hermione a consult to Padma would indicate that they were pregnant.

Regardless of how clueless he might appear, he hadn't fallen off the turnip wagon last night and he had gone through this three times before with Ginevra so he was able to figure that much out himself. Mentally kicking himself for not having seen the signs since he had survived all three of Ginevra's rant laden pregnancies and had been around during both of Hermione's so the signs should have been obvious.

Except for that little fact that they had been careful, including that first night, that might have given him an apparently false sense of security.

The fact that Hermione seemed to be irate over the fact she was pregnant shocked him since they had talked around the subject, preferring to leave it until after the wedding when they could take a breath and see how the kids felt about having another sibling or two.

They had both heartily agreed that there were going nowhere near Trelawney's barmy prediction of a dozen but one or two children together was within the realm of possibility.

"Hermione, while I agree that the timing might not be the best, I seem to remember we were both very enthusiastically involved whenever this happened," Harry said carefully as he watched her trying to decipher exactly why she was so upset.

Ginevra's violent mood swings hadn't started until well into the pregnancy and he never remembered Hermione being overly emotional during her pregnancies with either Rose or Hugo.

Blinking in shock, Hermione rolled her eyes. "You can't possibly be this dense, Harry. Even Bilius could figure out what he'd done wrong in this situation."

Before Harry could take offense, Padma slapped her hand on the rune on her desk that activated the standard Healers' control runes for her office. Since people tended to take bad health related news badly, and with witches and wizards routinely carrying their wand, most treatment and office areas in St. Mungo's had runic arrays that allowed healers and mediwitches to put anyone not wearing a hospital ID into 'timeout'.

"Hermione, Harry doesn't know the little fact that set you off. All he's sussed out is that the two of you are pregnant and he thinks that you're very upset about that. Now before he gets the idea that you aren't happy about having a … baby with him, you need to catch him up on the bit that's got your knickers in a twist."

Hitting the rune again to release them, Hermione's face was suddenly very remorseful and she rushed forward and engulfed Harry in a fierce hug.

"Heavens, Harry," she whispered as she held him. "Of course I'm happy that we're going to have a child together." Feeling him relax and put his arms around her, she blinked a couple of times and hugged him tight.

"It was a shock, especially since we'd though we were being careful, but Padma explained that part. It was just when I realized …"

Breaking off, she loosened her grip on him and held him at arm's length. "But I still can't believe you did that. I can't believe you went home that night and slept with her."

Confused, Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Wait, what? Who did I supposedly sleep with?"

"Why Ginevra. I realize she was your wife but that was a bit shocking to realize you went home after we'd had dinner and slept with her."

"What?" Looking over at Padma who was trying not to laugh, Harry implored, "Can you explain what makes her think I slept with Ginevra?"

"Oh you did, Harry," Padma said. "In fact you knocked her up." Pausing with a wicked smile, she added, "Twelve years ago."

"Wait. What?" Staring in disbelief at both Padma, who was snickering and Hermione who was glaring at him, Harry blinked in surprise. "This is about Lily?"

Seeing that Hermione was still indignant, Padma stopped snickering and simply nodded. "Harry, the two of you are expecting a witchling and from the tests I did today, your likely due date is on or around the 12th of June of next year."

Processing that, Harry turned to Hermione. "We're having a girl?"

"Yes, Harry, we're having a girl and if she's on time she'll be here on the 12th of June. This means we got lucky that first night. Even you can't miss what's wrong with that."

"Other than the fact we'll embarrass the poor girl terribly if I ever mention that she's your birthday present?"

"Harry!" Stamping her foot in frustration, Hermione rolled her eyes. "When is Lily Luna's birthday?"

"12 June …" Trailing off, Harry shrugged. "You're mad because of a coincidence?"

"No, you idiot. I'm annoyed because that year you and I went out for dinner for my birthday because Bilius was away and Ginevra was working that night. We had a lovely dinner at Greengrass' and then you went home and slept with your wife on my birthday."

Blushing, Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry, it sounds ridiculous I know but I was really hurt when Padma made that 'birthday present' joke and I realized that it meant you went home and slept with Ginevra that night after we had dinner while I was home alone."

Stunned, Harry stared at her in disbelief. While Hermione was truly embarrassed to admit how she felt, he could also see the hurt in her eyes.

Thinking back to that night, and he remembered the night clearly because he had spent it celebrating her twenty-eighth birthday which he had commemorated by giving her a lunar pendant and a first edition manuscript of Wenlock's research into the arithmantic properties of the number seven published in 1243.

"Ginevra wasn't home when I got back to Potter Hall that night, I remember waking up the next morning on the davenport in my study and complaining about my stiff back that day during our staff meeting so whenever Lily was conceived, it wasn't on your birthday."

Ignoring the whistle of surprise from Chastity, the snicker from Luna and the "Damn he's good" from Padma, Harry looked deep into her eyes.

"You know these dates aren't that totally precise and what happened back then doesn't matter now. We have seven children and this June we'll add an eighth to the circus we call home. Lily will get over having to share a birthday with her youngest sister if that happens."

Shaking his head, he looked over at Padma and smirked. "Besides, the first time you ran the test on Ginevra, you told us we were expecting twins, so you're only twelve years off."

Turning his attention back to Hermione, Harry smiled and wrapped an arm around her as he turned her towards the door.

"My suggestion is that we go back to the Ministry, sign out for the day, and then go home and decide if we need to move the wedding up."

Looking around, Harry nodded to each of the three witches. "I know there's no way this is going to stay a secret long, but if you could put a lid on it until we have a chance to call her parents and Petunia, we'll consider it a win."

"Should I expect an appearance tonight after dinner in the Great Hall," Luna asked with a twinkle in her eyes that rivaled anything Dumbledore could have done back in his heyday.

"We probably should, but that'll mean I'll have to suffer through a thorough exam by Poppy."

Hurriedly looking over her shoulder, Hermione smiled. "Sorry Pad, but you know how she is."

Waving her off with a smile, Padma looked at Chastity and shared a knowing look. "Poppy still remembers all of us as 'ickle firsties', I think."

As Harry led the much calmer Hermione out of the office, after a promise that she would floo Padma's mediwitch later to set up a series of appointments, Luna shut the door and started snickering at what had just happened.

Which set the other two off and all three laughed until they could barely stand.

Wiping her eyes, Padma looked at Chastity with a puzzled look in her eyes.

"Until Harry mentioned that thing with Ginevra's test, I'd forgotten all about that."

Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, "The strange thing is the same thing happened today. The first time I ran the test on Hermione, the results were for twins. But when I checked it for gender, the test showed only a single witchling."

Seeing the knowing look on Luna's face, Padma grimaced. "It's never good when you've got that look in your eyes, Lu."

Smiling mysteriously, Luna innocently asked, "Did you run the standard line tests on Lily?"

An indignant Padma replied, "Of course. Not that I would have doubted it at the time, though there were always rumors about her and some of the quidditch players she palled around with, but it's a Ministry requirement to do a lineage test for any children of the Ancient and Honorables."

Pausing for a moment, she shivered a bit. "The consequences are quite severe if you try to add a child to the family register that's not part of the line. Harry was definitely the father of all three children."

Thinking for a second, Padma smiled knowingly. "I know what you're thinking, but what happened with Ginevra happened because unless it's requested we don't do the thorough tests on anyone other than the Ancients."

Smiling mysteriously, Luna simply asked, "So, you never test to see who the mother is?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>an2 –** German terms and phrases from the middle section_

__Gnädige_ Frau – Mistress or Good Lady_

_die _jäger_- the hunters_

_der Meisterzauber und der Alp - The Master Sorcerer and the Elf_

__Schwarzwälder_ - from the Black Forest_

_Inselwyrm - Island Wurms (referring to their English origins)_

_a/n3 - originally posted on 5/6. updated on 5/6 for a spelling correction to __Gnädige_ Frau _thanks to texan-muggle for the catch!  
><em>

_and updated a second time to fix my ever present problem with possessives. Apparently I'm a closet Socialist. Thanks to alix33 for the assist!_


	27. Of Kings and Pawns

**The Phoenix Syndrome – A Tale of Rebirth, Love, and Hate**

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><p><em>an – We're closing in on our target and while we zero in, I'm compelled to remind everyone that the entirety of the Harry Potter universe is owned by JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate allies. No infringement is intended and all properties belong to their specific owners._

_The location references in the opening scene of this chapter has the HMS Prince of Wales passing by the site of a naval battle that occurred in 1916 over a century ago in the story's time._

_HMS Invincible was sunk during the Battle of Jutland when she was struck by multiple salvos from SMS Lutzow and SMS Derfflinger of the Imperial German Navy. She sank in ninety seconds after a shell struck one of her magazines. One thousand and twenty four sailors and officers were killed. There were six survivors._

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Seven – Of Kings and Pawns<strong>

_0800 25 October, 2019 – Flag Officer's Cabin, HMS Prince of Wales, 14 kilometers due west of 57º02'40" North Latitude, 06º07'15" East Longitude_

With the honors rendered to HMS Invincible fresh in his memory from when the force had passed by her watery grave less than an hour ago, Group Captain Jones made his way to the Flag Officer's cabin, wondering exactly what was going on.

A lowly recruit could see that the fleet or squadron commander wasn't on board simply by looking at the ship's masthead, so why he would be receiving a summons to the Flag Officer's cabin instead of the Captain's cabin was a bit of a mystery, adding to all of the other mysteries that had been piling up.

HMS Prince of Wales and her squadron had been sailing hard for the North Sea for the past eighteen hours on heightened alert. While not on an official war footing, message traffic had been restricted and a quartet of fighters had been sitting armed and ready to be launched since the force had left the Baltic.

Approaching the Flag cabin, Dafydd's eyebrows raised at the sight of the pair of armed Royal Marines standing guard outside the cabin door. Even when the Admiral's Flag was on Tywysog, he couldn't remember when he'd last seen armed marines guarding that door.

Just as he stepped forward, a memory of his last cruise before becoming a fully fledged officer in the then Her Majesty's Navy surfaced. He had participated on R06 Invincible's last voyage before his transfer to HMS Illustrious when the latest ship to be called Invincible had been retired from the Fleet.

And on that final voyage, HMS Invincible's Sovereign had paid a visit.

As he came within three paces of the door, both marines snapped to attention, with the senior of the two announcing, "Group Captain Jones as requested."

As he stepped closer to the door, a shimmer on the other side of the passageway told him that there was an invisible witch or wizard standing there as an additional security precaution, which made sense on one hand since he knew that there were magical threats, but it didn't on the other since he knew from the discussions he'd had with his sister that there was little overt interactions between His Majesty's government and the Ministry of Magic with the exception of the aptly named Department of Mysteries.

Apparently those Unspeakable boffins had counterparts in the British Government, but Arielle had no clue as to who they were and he'd never heard a sniff regarding their identities even with working with Mercy the past few years.

Taking a moment to make certain his uniform was squared away, much to the silent amusement of the senior of the two marines if the twinkle in her blue eyes was any indication, he stepped through the portal, prepared to snap off a textbook salute and report …

And stared in disbelief because a dead man was sitting behind the desk, calmly drinking from a ceramic mug emblazoned with the phoenix crest of Squadron 809, known throughout the fleet as The Immortals.

Hearing his captain clear her throat from where she was sitting just out of his line of sight, Dafydd resisted the urge to snort in disbelief, snapped to attention, and executed a picture perfect salute.

"Your Grace, Group Captain Jones reporting as ordered."

Holding the salute, Dafydd met the grey eyes of Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David, formerly Edward VIII, by the Grace of God King of the United Kingdom and the Dominions of the British Empire, Emperor of India, and then the last Duke of Windsor following his abdication.

A roguish smile formed as the man who had been Sovereign of the Empire upon which the sun never set as he nodded his head and returned the salute as if it was something he did thrice a day.

This was astounding since the Duke of Windsor had, reportedly, 'died' twelve years before Dafydd had been born and most certainly didn't look as if he had passed his century mark.

Much less been embalmed and buried.

"Stand at ease, Group Captain," came the answer from the man behind the desk. Relaxing slightly, Dafydd started to snap to again as the Duke began to rise from his seat.

Taking the casual wave of his hand holding the mug as license to carry on, Dafydd turned slightly as the Duke began moving towards the sitting area of the cabin that was slightly behind him to the left of the door he had entered through.

Seeing Captain Jellicoe sitting there, as relaxed as the woman ever got while they were at sea, allowed him to unwind a bit until his eyes widened at the sight of the officer sitting beside her, drinking from a mug with Squadron 809's crest on it, her eyes twinkling as she smirked over the rim of the mug.

"Group Captain, I believe you're familiar with Group Captain Li," Captain Jellicoe asked in a voice that dripped pure innocence as His Grace seated himself across from her, leaving the only seat available the one beside his counterpart from the Iron Bess, HMS Queen Elizabeth.

Unsuccessfully attempting to quash the memories of the last time the two of them had gone head to head at the American's 'Top Gun' training, and the evening afterwards in nearby Reno, Dafydd simply sighed and nodded as he said, "Lizzy, what brings you up from the Med?"

"His Grace's Magic Capet ride," the brown-eyed aviatrix replied with a smile. "Almost makes a girl feel obsolete when I can pop from my Captain's ready room to here on Avis in less time than it takes to climb into my flight suit."

Looking innocently around, and ignoring Captain Jellicoe's scowl at the reference to the nickname that the company of the fleet's other carrier had dubbed her vessel, she smirked and shrugged.

"Or should I have said Tywysog?"

Seeing that Captain Jellicoe's glare was redirected, she turned her attention to the Duke, who was watching all of them with amusement.

"Your Grace, as much as I've wanted to catch up with Dafydd here, I take it that this has more to do with our respective connections to the magical world than a Royal interest in our … social lives."

Freezing for a second, looked over at his captain in disbelief. Seeing that she was rolling her eyes, he began to go over his interactions with her over the past several years.

"Group Captain, I'm a tad disappointed that one of my senior officers thought that they were acting as a clandestine courier for a secret part of His Majesty's government and I wouldn't be aware of it," she said with a disapproving tone of voice.

"My younger brother is Auror Captain Irving Jellicoe, one of the first persons of non-magical parentage to be sorted into Slytherin House in several centuries following that Voldemort nonsense back in the nineties."

Blinking in surprise, Irving took a deep breath before giving his commander a long look. Shaking his head slightly, he turned his attention to the only person in the room that he didn't know.

"Your Grace," he began cautiously, "How may The Immortals serve today?"

"There's a confrontation coming," the Duke began as he sat back, crossed his legs and laced his fingers over his knee.

"The events that have been growing for the past several months are coming to a head, and we believe that naval vessels will be involved along with His Majesty's Royal Navy in the persons of yourself and Group Captain Li will be needed to use your admirable skills to protect the vessels involved."

Turning his attention to Irving's counterpart from the Queen Elizabeth 2, the Duke shook his head sadly.

"And I'll apologize again, Group Captain, but the timing and simple logistics prohibit us from bringing your usual aircraft from the Mediterranean for this mission."

Shrugging eloquently, Elizabeth Li simply smirked as she looked over at her counterpart. "Tzu ko will be there when I get back home, I'm certain this barbarian can find something suitable for me to fly for this mission."

Pausing for a moment, Irving parsed everything that had been said and gave the Duke an appraising look.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, but I'm starting to think that there is something here that goes beyond the scope of the Royal Navy. Your mention of 'naval vessels' separate from Royal Navy involvement …"

"Apparently, Group Captain," Captain Jellicoe said with an undercurrent of distaste in her voice, "there has been a long history of military assets being controlled by other aspects of the government than the military establishment and it's civilian leaders."

Blinking in surprise, Irving glanced over at his counterpart and saw that she was just as surprised as he was. "There are naval vessels and other assets not under the control of the Admiralty?"

"Not that anyone would remember," the Duke said cryptically.

"The Statutes of Secrecy," Irving asked in disbelief while Li scoffed, "from what I've heard, I wouldn't trust the Ministry of Magic with a locker of paintball pistols."

"Not exactly," the Duke of Windsor said with a smile. "However, I suppose it might make it a bit clearer if I mentioned what I've been doing since I left that horribly confining job my father saddled me with."

Seeing the shocked look on Captain Jellicoe's face, the Royal Duke smirked and picked up his mug to take another sip. Releasing the mug, it hovered in place as the Duke simply smiled as said, "Edward Albert, sorted into Slytherin House on the first day of September, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and five."

Blinking in surprise, Irving tried to match up everything he'd ever been told about the Houses at Hogwarts with the fact that a reigning monarch of the Empire, and during the heyday of the Empire, had not only attended Hogwarts unnoticed but had been sorted into Slytherin House.

"That was unexpected," he said cautiously. As the penny finally dropped from the conversation about his Captain's brother, Irving failed to suppress his initial reaction, "the Royal Family at Hogwarts?"

"Actually, the royal family of Württemberg has attended Durmstrang almost since its founding, and while my sainted mother wasn't a squib, she was homeschooled since her talents were borderline." Sighing, he added, "Except in the areas of Potions and Divination, but that's not really germane."

"With all due respect, Your Grace," Group Captain Li said, 'being a Hogwarts alumnus for the past century isn't what you were going to reveal unless there's more to being in that little club than my aunt has let on."

"Ah, yes. I suppose another introduction is in order." Sitting forward, Edward reached out his hand to Group Captain Li.

"Edward Albert, the head of His Majesty's directorate MI-13 and The Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries, at your service."

* * *

><p><em>1200 25 October 2019, 36 Macpherson's Way, Upper Flagley Yorkshire<em>

Storming towards the front door, Romilda McLaggen swore softly under her breath, heaping curses and imprecations upon the heads of whoever was knocking at her front door, unannounced, while she was trying to feed her youngest lunch.

Yanking open the door, and just seconds from unloading upon whichever of her idiot husband's worthless friends that happened to be interrupting her, she stared in disbelief at her mother, grand aunt, and cousin who were all three standing there with grim expressions on their faces.

Blinking in surprise, Romilda took a deep breath and swallowed the rant that she had been prepping to release.

"Mother, Aunt Bella, Cousin. Welcome to my home."

"Romie," Constance Vane said with a neutral tone. Glancing at her aunt out of the corner of her eye, she nodded towards the house. "A chance to make amends has arrived. Your father and I are expecting you to uphold the family."

Scowling, Romilda McLaggen stepped back and allowed her relatives to enter her home. Guiding them towards the sitting room, she gave a quick glance back towards the house's kitchen.

"The twins are in the kitchen," Romilda began hesitantly. "I was just beginning to get them their lunch …"

"And there's no reason to deprive them," Belladonna Parkinson cut in with a dismissive tone and a wave of her hand. Looking over towards the window, she called out "Patcham?"

One quiet 'pop' later and a house elf with bulbous eyes and a long thin nose appeared dressed in a neatly starched tea towel.

Bowing almost to the ground, the elf simply said, "Mistress calls?" in a high squeaky voice.

"Yes, my great nieces are in the kitchen awaiting their lunch," Bella said while looking over at her grand niece. Seeing that the younger witch was blinking in disbelief, she scowled and turned her attention back to the waiting house elf.

"See that they're fed and content with whatever their mother had prepared. If there isn't anything suitable prepared, call for assistance from the kitchen staff at the manor and keep them occupied for at least half an hour."

"At once Mistress," the elf said as she straightened up and then disappeared with another quiet 'pop'. Seconds later, the sounds of children giggling could be heard from further in the house.

"There, that's disposed of," Bella said with a tone that indicated that, as far as she was concerned, the situation was disposed of.

A bit flustered, Romilda looked at her mother trying to divine what was going on in her head before nodding slowly.

"Yes, Mother what's this all about. And," she added hastily to keep it from appearing as an afterthought, "How is father?"

"Your father is useless as always," Bella snapped, drawing Romilda's attention back from her mother. "As is that lump of a husband you saddled yourself with."

Staring at her grandaunt in disbelief, Romilda was about to respond when her mother spoke up.

"Romie, I know things haven't been what you envisioned your life to be," she began trying to keep yet another argument from breaking out. "But we've been afforded a chance to assist in the Cause, and ..."

"For Merlin's sake mother," Romilda hissed, her dark eyes flashing in annoyance. "Hasn't this ridiculous obsession House Selwyn has with the Potters caused enough heartache."

Feeling her eyes beginning to prickle with tears, glared at her cousin, who had been silent, so far. "Evie, you were spared this nonsense. How have they managed to drag you into this insanity now?"

"There are more things at stake here," Evadne Selwyn said cautiously, "than this conflict with the Potter family, but I'll admit that conflict with the Potters has brought us to this point."

Seeing the skeptical look in her cousin's eyes, Evadne, shrugged. "My fate lay elsewhere, but the family has use for my meager skills which will allow you and your middle daughter to bring us to an end of this situation."

"And just what does Harriet have to do with this," Romilda asked suspiciously. "Her 'fate' lies outside this matter just as yours did."

"Ah, but she is on good terms with the youngest of the Potter witches, isn't she," Bella asked, partly to move the conversation on and mostly to avoid another round of the 'discussions' between Romilda and her cousin that had been acrimonious since night the pair had been sorted over a quarter of a century ago.

Suddenly looking apprehensive, Romilda stared at her grandaunt for a second before nodding.

"Good, while I understand why she was so unmotivated in getting close to the younger Potter wizard," Bella continued smoothly while carefully watching her grandniece, "she might be a bit more motivated for a chance to have the undivided attention young Lily …"

"Are you bloody insane?" Staring at first Bella and then her mother, Romilda shook her head emphatically. "You can't seriously suggest that Harriet try to slip the daughter of Harry Potter a potion …"

"Young Harriet's interests in her friend will have to take a back seat for a couple of years while the young witch is raised in a more … traditional environment than the one she currently finds herself in."

The gobsmacked look on Romilda's face was proof positive that she had jumped to the conclusion that her grandaunt and mother wished for her to jump to.

"You're beyond insane," Romilda said as she lowered her voice and looked around quickly as if she were trying to spot anyone listening in on this conversation.

"I've lost count of the number of painfully dead idiots who have been featured in the press after trying for the Potter and Weasley children over the years."

"And that's because they made two mistakes," Bella lied smoothly as she saw young Evadne twist her off hand in a way that indicated she was casting wandlessly and silently a cantrip to make Romilda more amenable to what was being discussed.

"First, they meant to harm the brats, while we're doing it for the young witch's own good, so that will help with any intent based protections."

Seeing Romilda's skepticism begin to fade, signifying that the _speciosus_ charm was working, Bella smiled reassuringly. A rare spell found in the family grimoires of only a handful of families in Britain, the _Speciosus fabula_ charm creates a propensity for the target to take things at face value, and Bella had seen Evadne use it to great effect over the years.

"Her own good," Romilda asked, her manner softening. "Are they …"

"You remember Granger," Bella said, watching the emotions play across her grandniece's face. The mere fact that Granger had been so close to the Potter boy that Romilda desperately wanted during their school years would add credibility to what they were saying, since Romilda would desperately want to believe the worst about the mudblood.

"Can you imagine what she's been filling that young witch's head with," Bella continued. "We need to get her away from that environment, especially since Granger's been able to frame the girl's mother and has finally beguiled Potter enough to worm her way into where she can fill all of those children's heads with lies and half truths."

Blinking owlishly, Romilda's thoughts were racing. She remembered Hermione Granger from their time together in Gryffindor House. Rarely anywhere else but at Potter's side, even though she ended up marrying that Weasley idiot, her annoyance with the pushy muggleborn witch from her time at Hogwarts resurged.

"And the second," Romilda asked with less hostility now that she was taking to the subject.

"They were idiots who were out to publicly prove a point which doomed them to failure," her grandaunt answered, conveniently ignoring that she had been the instigator of several of those attempts over the years.

"How does Harriet fit into this," Romilda asked, realizing that her grandaunt and mother would have a plan.

"Young Harriet is on good terms with the young Potter witch," her mother began. "While there is always security around the Potter and Weasley children when they leave the school, on Hogwarts' grounds they're just like any other students."

"I still don't see what that gains us," Romilda said with a thoughtful look on her face, missing the smile on her grandaunt's face at the 'us'. It's not as if they can leave the grounds if they want or that Lily would necessarily leave the grounds with Harriet."

"That's where I come in," Evadne said coyly. Reaching down, she pulled a metallic disk covered with a runic array out of her robes and held it up. The sunlight in the room reflected from the sharp edges of the etched runes as she turned it to show both sides.

"Remember back during that TriWizard tournament," Evadne said. Romilda's owlish blink showed that she wasn't tracking. "When Potter disappeared from the middle of that maze?"

Her eyes widening, the memory of those fear filled minutes when the object of her obsession had disappeared right from under the Headmaster's crooked nose, came flooding back. "They never did say how he managed to disappear from the middle of the grounds like that."

"And the story that they let circulate, even though they 'officially' debunked it, was that there had been a change in the wards at the school to accommodate some requirement for the Tournament." Pausing for a moment, she smirked as she remembered the day she stumbled upon the answer that had eluded the Ministry's experts for two decades.

"How the late, unlamented Mister Crouch managed to portkey an individual out of from under the nose of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was simple, once you knew the trick."

"And that's the trick," Romilda asked as she reached out and hesitantly used her finger to trace the runes on the disk that her cousin was holding up.

"People are blind to the power of blood rituals," Evadne explained. "A blooded portkey will have the power to punch through the wards at Hogwarts, as long as the portkey was crafted on the grounds of the school."

"How," her eyes wide with amazement, Romilda eyed her cousin with a respect that she seldom felt for her.

"While the 'Forbidden Forest' is just that, if you have enough wands at your back you can make your way through it and do what needs to be done on the edge of the woods down near the old caretaker's cabin in one night."

"Sunday, Evadne and I will accompany you to Hogwarts to meet with young Harriet," Constance said in a calm voice. "We'll have a reason to speak with her, and I don't see the Headmistress refusing since you were one of her Lions, back in the day."

Seeing the blush on Romilda's face, and resisting the urge to roll her eyes since Romilda's tenure in Gryffindor house was unremarkable, except for the small matter of almost getting Ronald Weasley killed when she attempted to ensnare Potter her fourth year, Constance continued.

"At that time, while we're walking around the grounds, we'll explain to Harriet how we're going to 'rescue' the young Potter witch and ensure she's raised in a much more suitable environment. The prospect of being able to see her, and spend time with her during the summer hols should encourage Harriet to do the right thing."

"You're not going to hurt the child," Romilda asked, worrying starting to cloud her eyes.

"That would be foolish," Bella laughed. "We'll need the chit whole and hale in a few years and I'm certain Harriet would much prefer spending time with her in France during the summers so there's no need to harm her."

"True," Romilda said, ignoring the nagging misgivings about her mother suddenly becoming so understanding and supportive of Harriet's predilections towards spending time with witches rather than wizards. "I can see how this is necessary since Granger's probably clouding the poor girl's head with all sorts of muggle nonsense even as we speak."

"Monday at sundown will be the time to liberate the Potter witch," Evadne said smoothly.

Seeing the questioning look in her cousin's eyes, she shrugged. "The portkey has more power if you can tie it to an external source, besides the blood. I finished the crafting at sundown on the day of a dark moon, and that will be Monday."

Pausing for a moment and looking at Bella with a knowing glance, she added, "And their guard should be down since, while they're not actively suspicious, they'll be expecting that if something were to happen it would be either during the Hogsmeade weekend starting tomorrow or on Hallows Eve, this Thursday, so they should be nice and complacent at the end of the day on Monday."

"The portkey," Romilda asked in a quiet voice, "how does it work?"

"Simple, really," Evadne replied. "While the crafting of it is very meticulous and painstaking, the principle is really quite elementary. Priming it with the blood of the individual activating the portkey, it uses the power of the activator's magical core to heighten its power and punch it through any wards that would attempt to prevent it."

"Apparently, during the Tournament," Bella continued since she knew Evadne had a bad habit of leaving out details to force someone to keep asking her and they didn't need to incur Romilda's ingrained antipathy towards her cousin, "the person who impersonated Alastair Moody gained access to a sample of Potter's blood and was able to incorporate it into the portkey that he built into the trophy.

"Knowing the date and time of the final task, and keying it so that it wouldn't activate unless Potter touched it, he was able to create a portkey to steal him away."

"What if he hadn't won," Romilda asked. "I know he was the best candidate and should have won, but things happen."

Shrugging, Bella sighed. "Even if Potter hadn't won, it's almost a certainty that he would have touched the trophy sometime during the awards ceremony. Disappearing in front of the Minister and the wizarding press would have been slightly more spectacular than disappearing from the center of a maze where no one could see."

Seeing that her daughter was starting to wonder about the tone that her aunt was taking regarding the activities of a Death Eater, Constance cleared her throat.

"We should be going," she said looking at both Evadne and Bella. "I'll be back here on Sunday afternoon after two so we can go to Hogwarts and explain what happened."

As the four stood, and headed towards the door, Romilda gave her mother a sharp look.

"And exactly what is it that we'll be explaining to my daughter on Sunday," she asked. "I doubt that we can impress my old Head of House with 'We need to borrow my daughter so we can read her in on using a blood portkey so we can rescue one of your students from a life of mediocrity'," she scoffed.

As they reached the door, Constance shrugged. "We'll be briefing your daughter about her grandfather being in St. Mungo's after having a little accident."

"I thought you said he was fine. When did Daddy get hurt, and why aren't we telling Harriet until Sunday?"

As they stepped through the door, Bella shrugged.

"Your father isn't going to have his accident until tomorrow night, so he'll still be pretty bad off when you go tell his granddaughter about it."

Pausing for a moment as Romilda's eyes went wide in shock, she added, "Even that old battleaxe McGonagall won't think twice about letting you speak to the girl under those circumstances."

* * *

><p><em>an 2 – The nickname for HMS Prince of Wales has nothing to do with birds. Since she's the number two aircraft carrier in the Royal Navy, the crew of the Iron Bess call her 'Avis' since she's number two, she has to try harder._

_The spell name/incantation translates to 'plausible tale' from the Latin as best I can determine. If someone has a better incantation, let me know._

_That whole portkey in the TriWizard Cup thing always bothered me, but I finally figured out a way to explain it._


	28. A Cursebreaker's Trip to Wales Somewhat

**The Phoenix Syndrome - A Tale of Rebirth, Love, and Hate**

_a/n – Well, this is awkward. In case there's any question, I'm back and here's the next installment of Phoenix. Part of the overly long delay was this chapter resisted where I had originally thought to go with it, and as is normal for my writing I finally caved in to the characters and decided to do it their way. _

_Also, and I know this is the line that everyone hates, but rl intruded and kicked me several times, which didn't help. It's no excuse but I really had a problem writing anything worth anything for quite a while._

_Back to the matter at hand. Of course, the entirety of the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, or 'She-Who-Must-Be-Acknowledged' as she is known in some circles, and her corporate minions. And my profound thanks for her allowing us all to play in her sandbox._

_The chapter ended up being three, and here we are with setting the stage for my argument with the characters. Who didn't even have the decency to show up onstage in this chapter.  
><em>

_The nerve of some people_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Eight – A Cursebreaker's Trip to Wales. Somewhat<strong>

_1030 GMT, 27 October, 2019 - Reception Desk, Caer Sidi – Off the coast of Wales (somewhat)_

Looking particularly annoyed, Head Gaoler Elizabeth Creevey-Zabini turned to the healer standing beside her and took a deep breath. Before she could start, the visiting healer who was standing with her held up her hands and sighed noisily.

"Yes, I know it's irregular. Yes, I realize that secure prisoners at your facility aren't usually allowed civilian visitors, especially family members so this is a rather significant breach in your usual protocols. Yes, I know this entire affair is very stressful for your staff. Yes, I know that if anything were to go wrong I would be completely responsible.

"And yes," Mind Healer Hilfa Thorfinsdatter added with a wry smile, "I know that you're very uneasy about this entire thing because it's much easier to believe that Ms Weasley is a conniving evil bitch who coldly plotted against her husband and everything that you consider good and orderly than to accept the fact that poor girl might be a victim and since I can't honestly say, at this point, whether she's possessed, nuttier than my Aunt Effie's fruitcake, or just a cold hearted evil witch you're not a happy camper."

Pausing to take a breath, Healer Thorfinsdatter looked over at the young auror assigned to the entry point that was staring at her in disbelief for taking her commander to task like that and winked, shocking the poor witch even further.

"Remember, if I hear any rumors of this conversation floating around, I'm very good friends with Poppy and she, most likely, remembers all sorts of embarrassing things from your seven years at Hogwarts so it would be very unfortunate if these little details were to become public knowledge."

Quickly dropping her eyes to the copy of The Sunday Prophet that was sitting on the desk in front of her, Auror Natalie Frobisher blushed slightly as she wished there was a way she could ignore the two witches standing beside her station and still be able to keep an eye on the arrival areas she was responsible for.

She also wished she could ignore the memory of a late night visit to the hospital wing during her 3rd year that left both her and her dormmate unable to explain exactly how she had gotten herself into the predicament she was in to the Matron, but she did leave with a knowing glance from Madam Pomfrey and a warning not to 'borrow' things from her older sisters until she understood exactly how they worked and what the charm was to turn them off.

Which left Natalie certain that no one would ever hear about the conversation between the Gaoler and this healer and whatever was about to happen from her.

Ever.

As the floo at the end of the corridor flared into life, exactly on time according to the manifest she had received from the Secure Ministry courier, she placed her foot on the dead wizard's rune beneath her desk. The runes on her desk confirmed that two wizards were coming through, as expected.

Feeling the runic array surrounding her desk kick in, she uttered a quick prayer that nothing happened in the next three minutes that would activate the failsafe sequences that were built into this, the visitor's entrance to Caer Sidi.

Looking up, Natalie evaluated the pair of wizards moving towards her. Using the rune inscribed contact lenses that were standard issue for the staff that monitored access to the facility she could see the various runes that protected the visitor's entrance to Caer Sidi go active as the incoming pair was evaluated with each step.

No polyjuice, no imperious, no dark items except for the mildly dark medallion that the ginger wizard with the scars was wearing that indicated he was a very Senior Cursebreaker for Gringotts, which helped to confirm that he actually was …

"Senior Cursebreaker Weasley, welcome to Caer Sidi. Auror Commander Smithers, welcome back to Caer Sidi," Natalie said.

"Always a pleasure, Auror Frobisher," Horace Smithers said with only a hint of amusement.

Looking over at his companion, Horace smirked at the longsuffering look on Bill Weasley's face. The years that had passed had touched the older wizard lightly; a rumored side effect of his marriage, but the vicious scars on his face gave an air of menace to the affable man who was now the head of the Weasley family.

"Auror Frobisher," Bill said with a smile as he remembered the younger witch from her being a friend of his daughter's, "It's been quite a while."

"Yes, yes," Natalie said with a blush, not eager to have her boss hear about how she'd needed to literally get bailed out of trouble in Glasgow during the spring hols of her sixth year along with Victoire Weasley and a couple of witches from Hufflepuff.

"I'm certain that the Gaoler and Healer Thorfinsdatter need to get you to wherever it is that you're needed, so …"

Holding out her hand, with a pleading look in her eyes, Natalie could see that her friend's father was considering exactly how much she didn't want him to finish that story.

Pointing to the globe of polished volcanic glass on her desk, she said, "Gentlemen, if you would?"

Seeing that her boss was giving her a look, Natalie focused on the globe as Auror Commander Smithers deftly inserted his wand into the circular opening.

As usual, the disembodied voice of the identification globe began to speak as the glow of a successful reading evidenced itself.

"Teak and wyvern stinger, ten and three quarter's inches, creation of Ollivander. Identity confirmed as Horace Alexander Smithers, Order of Merlin Second Class, Wizengamot Medal for Gallantry, Auror Commander Team Twelve."

Removing his wand, and wincing at the look his subordinate was giving him, Horace turned his head towards his companion, "You're up."

Smirking, knowing that like his boss, Horace was uncomfortable with public recognition of things he considered 'in the line of duty'; Bill popped his wand into his hand from his custom wrist holster and deftly sheathed it in the globe.

The same glow, but a different tone sounded as the globe began to speak.

"Gopher wood and gryphon heartstring, nine and seven eighths inches, creation of Ollivander sealed by Gringotts under provisions of the Treaty of Hogsmeade, identity confirmed as William Arthur Weasley, Senior Cursebreaker Gringotts."

Retrieving his wand, Bill returned it to his wrist holster with a twist of his hand and turned to the pair of witches who had been watching the process with interest. Seeing the slight scowl on the Gaoler's face, he simply rolled his eyes at the typical DMLE reaction to a mention of the Gringotts sealing on the wands of their human employees.

"Gaoler Creevey-Zabini, Gringotts Senior Cursebreaker William Weasley reporting as requested by Ministry Liaison Orcbreaker," Bill said with a roguish smile at the younger witch completing the obligatory notification that a Gringotts employee was entering a DMLE controlled facility.

Sizing up the wizard standing easily in front of her, Elizabeth Creevey-Zabini called upon her years of experience to quash the feelings of irritation she had.

Not irritation at the wizard standing here smiling cheekily at her, but at the realization that it was the continual stupidity and shortsightedness of the Ministry over a good portion of its history that caused her to have to treat a wizard who was a credit to his family and profession as an outsider.

"Senior Cursebreaker, I apologize for any inconvenience to you or Gringotts, your presence was requested by Healer Thorfinsdatter with regards to one of the … detainees here at Caer Sidi that is under her professional care."

Waving his hand easily, Bill smirked at Horace before turning his attention back to the Gaoler. "I'm completely at your disposal, Madam Gaoler. I was planning on instructing some of my teammates on the process for cleansing the taint from a lich's phylactery today."

Chuckling for a moment at the surprised look on her face, he shrugged. "That's the only good thing about the undead; she'll be there tomorrow for me to get to and since we've got the blighter sealed in a lead sarcophagus in one of the lower security vaults she's not going anywhere …"

Blinking in surprise at his causal mention of dealing with an undead sorceress that would stand a good chance of defeating a combat team of hit wizards, Elizabeth nodded abruptly and indicated her companion.

"Healer Thorfinsdatter will escort you, please stay with her until you return here." Turning towards Smithers, she continued.

"Auror Commander, if you would accompany me, Auror Frobisher will signal us when they return."

Turning on her heel, the Gaoler started striding off, not looking over her shoulder it see if Smithers was following her. Giving Bill a shrug, Horace took off at a much slower pace following the installation commander into the bowels of the fortress.

Turning his attention to the healer who was smirking at the abrupt departure of the younger witch, Bill held out his hand.

"Must have been something I said," he began with an apologetic smile. "Bill Weasley, Senior Cursebreaker but I think that has very little to do with why I'm here, correct?"

"Correct, Mr. Weasley. My name is Hilfa Thorfinsdatter and I've been brought in on a consult by your DMLE to evaluate a pair of …" Pausing for a moment, she rolled her eyes and said, "Ah yes, the word that she uses is 'detainees'. A pair of detainees who have gotten themselves into a corner and I've been asked to evaluate exactly how they got there and if we can get them out of it."

Scowling, Bill held up his hand to break into the healer's explanation. "Perhaps it would be better if we held this conversation elsewhere, but I can assure you that the position of House Weasley …."

Cutting off at the look on her face, and having a flashback to his third year at Hogwarts and a late night trip to the Infirmary and trying to explain away why his dormmate was sporting purple hair and had both of his knees reversed without implicating Carrie Greengrass to Matron Pomfrey, he sheepishly nodded and closed his eyes.

"My apologies, Healer Thorfinsdatter. I'll just shut it and accompany you to wherever it is we're going."

"Poppy said you were trainable," Hilfa said with a smile as she nodded to the auror at the desk who was pointedly not paying attention to anything other than the parchments on her desk.

"I'll escort Senior Cursebreaker Weasley to Treatment Room C, Auror Frobisher. And I'll thank you in advance for your continued discretion."

"Beg pardon," Natalie Frobisher said as she looked up with a guileless look in her eyes. "Did you say something?"

"Excellent."

As she started to lead the younger man down one of the side corridors that lead to the healers section of the fortress, the two walked along in silence for a minute before Hilfa started snickering.

Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, Bill was trying to determine exactly what was so funny.

"While his reputation has certainly taken a beating over the years," Hilfa began with a chuckle, "everyone still talks about the 'legacy of Albus Dumbledore'."

Stopping as they came to the exam room she had commandeered Hilfa tapped it to release the seals she had placed upon it and motioned for Bill to go ahead.

As she entered and closed the door, she chuckled.

"The thing is, regardless of what your Albus Dumbledore thought he could or couldn't do, it pales into insignificance compared to the power of the mere mention of Poppy Pomfrey's name."

Thinking back to his time at Hogwarts, and then realizing that Poppy had been Assistant Matron, Matron or Matron Emeritus since well before his parents' time at Hogwarts. The sheer number of witches and wizards who had been under her care or had their children under her care meant that she had touched the lives of almost every witch and wizard in Britain.

"I suppose it's a good thing that Poppy was a Hufflepuff, otherwise she'd have realized she could of taken over the world before anyone realized it."

"Taking over the world is entirely too much work, doesn't pay nearly well enough, and paints a big target on your back," Hilfa said. "Poppy was smart enough to leave trying to run to world to fools like Albus Dumbledore,"

While not a fan of Albus now that he was privy to a number of the questionable things he had done over the years, Bill was a bit shocked at the easy way that the foreign witch casually dismissed his still formidable influence on the society of wizarding Britain.

As he was halfway into the comfortable chair the healer indicated, Bill was shocked senseless and dropped heavily the rest of the way into the chair when she concluded, "And besides, Poppy was a Slytherin during her school years."

"Beg pardon?"

Staring at the smirking witch in disbelief, Bill shook his head to try to clear it, since he'd clearly misheard her.

Holding up her hand, Hilfa cut off his stammering rebuttal before it began and simply said, "Poppy. Was. In. Slytherin. Green and silver. House of the cunning and ambitious."

"Wha …" Shaking his head as one of the assumptions that kept his tidy little world spinning just toppled; Bill simply stared at the foreign healer. "She's the quintessential 'Puff."

"People see what they want to see," Hilfa replied as she gracefully sat in the chair opposite the gobsmacked curse breaker.

Tapping one of the runes on the arm of the chair she had settled herself into, Hilfa smiled as the room reconfigured itself. A third chair shimmered into existence along with a small side table containing a tea service and a platter. Leaning forward, she smiled at the still gobsmacked wizard.

"Tea? Scones? Biscuits?"

"Slytherin?"

"Sorry, none of that on the platter it seems, though rumor has it that there's a wee touch of viper venom in the recipe for the treacle biscuits," Hilfa said as she poured herself a mug of tea.

Settling herself back in her chair, she took a deep sip of the tea and savored the rich flavor of it. If she couldn't get the kitchen here to provide decent coffee, at least they'd accommodated her preferences in tea.

"I'm surprised that you've lasted this long as a curse breaker if a little thing like Poppy having been a Slytherin sets you back like this," she observed casually as she watched the younger man struggle to accept what she had said.

Suddenly, he seemed to shake himself and then settled back and smiled apologetically at her.

"You quoted one of my trainers almost word for word there," Bill said with a slight shrug. "During the first year of my probation we were working on some of the lower security ruins in the Valley of the Kings. I'd just finished three years of fairly intense training at Gringotts and was working in the field for the first time."

Pausing, he leaned forward and poured himself a mug of tea and snagged a couple of the biscuits before sitting back in his chair.

"The structure we were working on was the remains of a minor temple outbuilding and only had rudimentary wards on it. Nothing that would inconvenience a serious curse breaker or thief, but the kind of things you'd put up to keep the local kids from vandalizing the building.

"I asked my trainer why they'd bothered to do that, for all the effective good they did they'd wasted their time. He pointed out that by putting them up they'd made it apparent that there were wards on the building and since people could see that the building was warded that's what they would focus on.

"He told me 'People see what they want to see. The common folk who were law abiding 'saw' that there were wards and knew it wasn't somewhere they should be. The run of the mill troublemakers 'saw' wards put up by the Temple of Thoth and knew that they had wards that could fry them were they stood, so they steered clear.

"Serious thieves and others, however, 'saw' that there was a tripwire ward around the building and since it wasn't a building that usually would contain anything of high value, they saw that it wasn't something that they'd want to brave just to find out if there were better wards inside."

Smiling knowingly, Hilfa sat back and agreed with the much younger man.

"Everyone 'knows' Poppy as the kindly but gruff Hogwarts Matron who will give you a dressing down about your complete idiocy while she's patiently and expertly patching up the results of your idiocy.

"And as long as there wasn't anything 'dark' or criminal involved, that was as far as it went."

Taking another sip of her tea, she added, "As far as the students know."

Seeing the worried look on Bill's face, Hilfa chuckled darkly.

"It would only be prudent to advise the Head of House if there was a problem with a student if the problem had the potential to extend past Poppy's ability to treat the student."

"For example," Bill asked casually, thinking back to some of the late night trips to the Infirmary he had been a part of and wondering which ones his Head of House had been made aware of.

"If certain wizards were to make repeated trips with poorly or unexplained injuries that looked suspiciously like something that would occur in a duel, Poppy would certainly inform the Heads of House about a problem that could escalate to something she couldn't fix with a few simple incantations and potions," Hilfa said as she watched the curse breaker for a reaction.

"Or, if a witch made repeated, panicked trips to the Hospital Wing for doses of the 'morning after' potion, a discussion with the young woman's Head of House would be apropos," Hilfa said, though she added with a rueful sigh, "though for quite a while if the witch was wearing green and silver Poppy did the honors rather than involve her Head of House."

Thinking back to the stories that came out of the Snake Pit during his school days about Severus Snape, Bill nodded in agreement.

"If nothing else, from what I heard then and later if I was a witch I wouldn't have fancied a conversation with Professor Snape that wasn't absolutely critical, much less a conversation like that."

Taking a sip from his mug, Bill sighed noisily and set it down before folding his hands in his lap.

"But, my naivety regarding Poppy aside, this isn't getting us any closer to the reason you called me here."

Taking a deep breath, he added, "Or is it reasons?"


	29. A Tale of Two Siblings

**The Phoenix Syndrome – A Tale of Rebirth, Love, and Hate**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Nine - A Tale of Two Siblings<strong>

_a/n – Well, our session continues and the Doctor/Healer is in. As part of the paperwork that we had to sign, we acknowledged that the entirety of the Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate minions/partners._

* * *

><p>Nodding and 'putting on her game face' as one of her American students was wont to say, Hilfa set down her mug and turned slightly towards the younger wizard.<p>

"William, even though I've spent a fair amount of time with him, I've still got more questions than answers regarding your youngest brother," she began in a conversational tone.

"From my conversations with your father and brother George, along with what I've observed so far from you, it's difficult to see how he grew up in the same environment as the rest of you. Even talking with Ginevra I can see the influences of your father and the 'Weasley family ethos' on her, though it's much diminished. But Ronald …"

"Was always Molly's child," Bill said bitterly. "While my mother had an influence that extended over all of us, Ronald was the one who never seemed to …."

At a loss for words, Bill looked up and shrugged.

"Run screaming for the horizon line at the first available moment," Hilfa asked with an understanding smile.

"A bit dramatic," Bill conceded with a grimace. "But basically true. Charlie and I took jobs right out of Hogwarts that took us as far from Ottery St. Catchpole as we could find and never looked back until years later. Percy buried himself in work at the Ministry. Fred and George …"

Breaking off at the snickers from his companion, Bill rolled his eyes and sighed. "I take it Poppy told you about 'The Great Escape'."

"The Weasley Twins are international legends," Hilfa said with a smile. "Poppy has told that story on numerous occasions, proud as punch that a pair of 'her' boys were courageous enough to make a stand like that and go out with such flair and style."

Sighing, Hilfa shook her head. "I don't suppose anyone in your family was aware that Poppy gave those two scoundrels extra tuition in Potions and basic healing diagnostics?"

Seeing the amazed look on Bill's face, Hilfa snickered. "Didn't anyone think it had to be more than just blind luck that none of their trifles ever permanently injured anyone?

"After the third time their second year she had to straighten out one of them for something they'd created that had a unforeseen side effect, she had them come in two nights a week for an hour and she showed them how to determine whether or not what they were doing was going to do what they thought it would without leaving the person who took it with permanent polka-dots on their fundament."

"I believe those are called 'freckles' in polite society," Bill said with a smirk having heard the story about one of the twins' escapades that had permanent results.

"And healers call them ephalis, but freckles don't usually alternate red and gold and glow in the dark," Hilfa said dryly.

Conceding her point, Bill simply made a gesture with his hands for her to continue.

"Ronald is in a state of extreme denial," Hilfa began as she sat back into her chair and adopted a clinical manner. "For whatever reason, he remains firmly convinced that all of his actions, from his infidelity to the disavowal of his daughters, are justified by the infidelity of his wife with Mr. Potter."

Shaking her head in disbelief, she added, "Apparently the fact that he and his mother had to resort to potions to induce the relationships and marriages proves the fact that they were unfaithful." Pausing for a moment with an ironic smile, she added, "Before the fact, as it was."

"Since they had to literally force Harry and Hermione into a relationship with them, this proves that they were being unfaithful," Bill asked as he tried to wrap his mind around the concept.

"Of course. The concept of Harry marrying Ginevra was presented as fact and your brother then accepted his mother's assertions regarding Hermione and him as the same sort of _fait accompli_.

"When reality failed to match up, the only thing that would 'reasonably' explain the discrepancy is than the two of them were cheating on him and your sister," Hilfa said with a remarkably straight face.

"This is before they were married, before they were engaged?"

"Actually, from what Ronald has told me, this was decided at the end of their third year, before he had considered dating any witch, much less young Miss Granger. You make it sound as if Ronald is being unreasonable," Hilfa said as she gazed at Bill.

Seeing the gobsmacked look on his face, she sighed. "That is the center of his problem, I think. The world works a certain way in your brother's opinion, and anything that doesn't conform to his preconceptions is either ignored outright or considered wrong and could be worked around since it doesn't fit into 'the rules' as he sees them."

Suddenly, Bill's eyes lit up. "Chess," he asked with a tone of surprise.

"Yes, your brother's obsession with chess is symptomatic of that. Everything in life has limited well defined roles according to him. He knows how each person or thing 'moves' and he can plan his strategy around that."

"And when the pieces don't conform to the rules …"

"Then he's within his remit to make them. When his best friend and the witch his mother decided was 'his' started showing feelings for each other, Ronald saw nothing wrong with ensuring that they conformed to the rules and only moved in the ways that they were allowed to."

Shaking his head sadly, Bill sat back and thought for a moment. Whether his youngest brother's interactions with Molly had created or merely reinforced the attitude, the fact that Ron's way of coping with his insecurities about life came down to forcing everyone and everything into roles that didn't conflict with the scenarios he created to deal with life.

"Is there anything we can do for him," he asked though he was pretty certain he knew the answers.

"Other than not catering to him," Hilfa asked. Seeing the resigned nod, she shrugged.

"While I don't generally suggest that people challenge the delusions of my patients, your brother's views are more a product of the machinations of his mother and former headmaster than he is delusional in the clinical sense.

"Ronald isn't going to ever straighten his life around until he decides that he isn't the center of the universe and that everything should conform to his ideas."

Seeing the look on Bill's face, Hilfa nodded. "Yes, your brother is simply still dealing with the world as he did when he was seven or eight. And until he decides that he needs to move on, nothing is really going to change for him."

"And the affair with Ms Parkinson?"

Grimacing a bit, Hilfa took a measured sip of her tea before answering.

"From everything I've been able to get him to say, your brother doesn't consider it an affair. Among the less admirable traits and opinions your brother inherited from his mother, is the sad fact that, to him, it doesn't really count as an affair since his wife is a muggleborn."

Seeing the shocked look on Bill's face, Hilfa held up her hand to quiet him as she continued.

"Your brother isn't a raving blood supremacist, and I'm certain that if he had realized that Ms Parkinson was involved with the people she was working for he would have tried very diligently to show her the error of her ways," she said with a knowing smile.

"That wouldn't have stopped him from shagging her any chance he got, but he would have been disturbed by her associations. Your mother's birth family is very … traditional and I'm certain that he's noticed that quite a number of the males on the Prewitt side were married for political or social alliances and kept muggleborn mistresses on the side. He, however …"

"Married the mistress and kept the pureblood 'wife' on the side?"

"The only thing that is 'out of character' is his disavowing young Ms Parkinson as his daughter. If anything, I would have thought that any child with a pureblood witch he would have thrown in his wife's face at every opportunity."

Sitting back and thinking, Bill shifted in his seat and thought for a moment. Thinking back to his youngest brother's interactions with witches over the years, he finally just shrugged and looked back at Hilfa.

"The only thing I can come up with is that since it wasn't a son, it didn't matter to him. In fact, since Pansy had a witchling, I doubt he gave it enough thought to consider the possibility that the witch he was sleeping with was pregnant with his child.

"Even if he had, Flora being the daughter of a pureblood witch wouldn't cause my brother to declare a witchling his heir over his son."

Shaking his head, Bill tried one more time to fathom the mystery that was Ronald. Putting it away, for as a curse breaker he'd long ago learned to compartmentalize and put away things that would distract him from what was important in the here and now; he sat forward and looked Hilfa in the eyes.

"But your original message to me didn't mention Ronald, did it?"

"No, it's Ginevra I actually called you out here for," Hilfa acknowledged. I'm at an impasse with her and I think that having you here would be beneficial for her."

A frown passed across Bill's face as he thought about what she just said. Thinking about all of the things that he'd accepted about his baby sister since all of this started to come out, he couldn't reconcile the little girl who had curled up in his lap listening to stories about Hogwarts with the … woman she had become.

"I'm not certain …" he began hesitantly. Seeing the understanding look on the woman's face, Bill rubbed his hand across his face in frustration.

"I can't condone what she did, what she became. If you've called me here …"

"I've called you here because of who and what she was," Hilfa said in a calm and reassuring tone. "If I were one to believe in Fate as a personification, then your sister became Fate's whipping girl at the tender age of eleven, and no one did a damn thing about it."

Seeing the man's blink of surprise, Hilfa ignored the urge to curse the name of Albus Dumbledore, yet again.

"Your sister was involved in the 'Chamber of Secrets' fiasco at Hogwarts her first year," Hilfa began, endeavoring to see exactly how much Ginevra's family had been told about what had actually happened.

"Yes, my father explained that there was some sort of enchanted diary that gained control over her and almost cost her her life," Bill said as he thought back to the late night discussions with his parents during their trip to Egypt the summer after those events.

Remembering his initial disquiet about the vagueness of his father's answers and his mother's insistence that 'everything was fine' with his sister, Bill leaned forward and watched the healer closely waiting for the other shoe to finally drop.

"I take it there was more to the story than what was told."

"If you had been told that an eleven year old witch had been in contact with an active Horcrux for nine months, would you have recommended that she be patted on the head, sent home and then on holiday without seeing anyone other than the school matron ," Hilfa asked.

Blinking in surprise, and quietly ruing the presumption that he'd ever thought he'd gotten past the point where he could be surprised by anything involving his family, Bill shook his head and whistled.

"No, I'd say that wasn't a proper way to go about things, though I'm absolutely certain that my father didn't know it was a Horcrux and my … well Molly Prewitt wouldn't know a Horcrux from a handsaw." His face darkening in anger, Bill Weasley thought of all of the things he'd seen down in Egypt and over in the Middle East that had been tracked back to Horcruxes.

"I should have …"

"The Horcrux wasn't active once she made her way with your family to Egypt, there wasn't anything you could have done," Hilfa interrupted. "But you can help her now."

"How? Aren't we just a couple of decades past seeing that my sister's childhood …" Sitting back and quickly flashing through all of the things that hadn't made sense about Ginny over the years that were now glaringly obvious. "What can we do, what can I do for her?"

"For the Ginevra Molly Weasley who's thirty-eight, probably not much," Hilfa said carefully as she watched the wizard sitting across from her. "But for little Ginny Weasley who's eleven, there might be some hope."


End file.
